


There's Nothing Wrong With You

by GlitchTheRoboticShadow



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Consumption of harmful potions, Crushes, Deamus, Denial, Gen, GoF, HP - Freeform, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Homophobic Slurs, Internalized Homophobia, LGBTQIA+, Learning to accept yourself, M/M, Secret club, Triwizard Tournament, Yule Ball, tags added as they become relevant, unintentional self-harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-30
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-04-12 01:27:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 22,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4459973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlitchTheRoboticShadow/pseuds/GlitchTheRoboticShadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"There's nothing wrong with you, Seamus. Nothing to fix. Everyone is their own unique version of perfect, no matter who they love."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I'm Planning To Soon

Seamus Finnigan was rambunctious, lighthearted, sweet spirited, friendly, clumsy, and terrified of his own feelings. He'd never really known what a "crush" was. Sure, he'd figured it was when you'd get butterflies and everything the person said was the next Gandhi quote or Jerry Seinfeld joke, but he hadn't really experienced that. It started to concern him, though, when he was in fourth year. He was a pubescent teenager who  _didn't_ have inappropriate thoughts about girls, who  _wasn't_  lusting after one of the upperclassmen. And it was thoroughly perplexing him.

He'd only ever questioned his sexuality once before, when he was a little nine year old Seamus. He was playing with the neighborhood kids, when Roger, the new boy down the street, had asked to join. Seamus couldn't quite pinpoint what exactly was so enthralling about Roger. He was just marvelous. The way he knew so many different and unique games. How he always had the best jokes and never let anyone pick on his friends. There was something about Roger that had old memories of heated debates and hushed whispers reemerging in his brain. Could Seamus Finnigan possibly be  _gay?_

The moment that terrifying thought drifted into his mind, he plucked it out and stomped on it. He knew one thing, being gay was bad. His mother always said so, said that it wasn't natural and that it was nasty. Seamus couldn't possibly be something so vile. Right?

After that, Seamus stopped playing with Roger and never thought about the terrible way his stomach would flip when Roger would hug him goodbye. For years it was fine, he ignored the way he'd notice guys more than girls. But now, everything was being trudged up and it scared him.

The Yule Ball was fast approaching and people kept asking him who he was taking. He had no idea. There wasn't anyone that sprung to mind when the question was queried. There were attractive girls all around him and he didn't desire to ask  _any_ of them to the ball.

"What's up, mate? You look upset." Dean said, nudging Seamus with his elbow. They were studying together in the Gryffindor common room. They didn't want to risk another one of Snape's ridiculous punishments for turning in an essay late.

Seamus raised his gaze to meet Dean's, "Sorry, just thinkin' 'bout who I'm gonna ask to the ball."

Dean flicked his eyes back to his potions book, nodding his head in understanding. "You uh, you thought of anyone yet?"

Seamus shook his head and ran a hand through his hair, "Not yet. What about you? Got a special lady?" He asked, wiggling his eyebrows and bumping his shoulder against Dean's. For some unknown reason, it was hard to get those words out, like he didn't want to know if Dean liked anyone. The thought of him dancing with some random girl had Seamus' stomach twisting in a way he rather didn't like.

Dean smiled sheepishly, "There is someone I was thinking about asking."

Seamus' heart dropped and a lump formed in his throat. Oh, so Dean did have someone he fancied. He smiled feebly and feigned excitement for his friend, "Really? And who's that?" He hoped his attempt at nonchalance was working, though he doubted it was.

Dean bit his bottom lip and seemed to be tossing something around in his head, before slamming his book shut in one swift motion, "Not saying 'til I know if they'll go with me."

He popped up and brushed the wrinkles from his robe, "I'm gonna get started on my essay in the library."

"Oh, okay," Seamus said, closing his book and standing up, "I'll go t-"

"It'll probably be easier if we're not around to distract each other. We tend to veer off topic when we do projects together." Dean headed for the portrait hole, "But I'll see ya around."

"Yeah, see ya." Seamus frowned at the book in his hand and trudged up to the boys' dormitory. He didn't like how terrible he felt upon learning Dean liked someone. He didn't like the way that he could imagine himself dancing with Dean at the ball. He didn't like the way the word  _gay_ found its way into his train of thought.

 

-

 

 "This is seriously what you wrote?" Hermione asked, eyebrows raised in surprise. 

Seamus just shrugged, "No one likes potions anyway."

Hermione rolled her eyes, exasperated. "You can't possibly believe that Snape will give you anywhere near a passing grade. It's like you wrote this after drinking an entire bottle of Firewhisky."

Seamus huffed and grabbed the parchment dangling from Hermione's hand. He couldn't exactly focus after Dean practically ditched him to go hangout at a library. He was lucky he could muster anything up to splotch onto that paper and call it an essay. "I was a bit distracted, that's all."

Hermione's face softened and she snatched the paper back. "Well, you're lucky you have me for a friend Seamus Finnigan. I'll jut spruce it up a bit before you hand it in. But don't expect me to bail you out of failing again." She stomped off, but Seamus knew she pitied him and wasn't angry at all. He wasn't sure if that made the whole thing worse or not.

"Don't worry about her," Ron said, plopping his hand on Seamus' shoulder and staring at Hermione's retreating form. "she's just got her knickers in a twist because no one's asked her to the Yule ball."

Seamus remained quiet, unsure how to respond to that little comment. It was outrageously obvious that Ron and Hermione had feelings for each other, but they were too stubborn to ever admit it. Sometimes Seamus wished he could just lock them in a closet until they finally confessed and stopped being so bloody annoying all the time.

"You asked anyone yet?" Ron questioned, turning his back on where Hermione had trailed down the hall. Why did everyone care so much? It seemed like that was all anyone would talk about. Yule Ball this and Yule Ball that. Do you have a date, Seamus? Who're you asking? Have you bought a suit? Blimey, the talk of the ball almost outweighed the talk of the tournament.

"Not yet. You?"

Ron sighed, "You know what? This is a bloody stupid topic. What d'ya say we go find Peeves and see what he's up to?"

The prospect of a solid distraction in the form of a particularly mischievous poltergeist was enough to brighten Seamus' mood significantly. "Yeah, definitely." He agreed, genuinely smiling for the first time that day.

 

-

 

Seamus wore his Gryffindor scarf in support of Harry as him and Dean walked over to the first task. Seamus was a bit confused when Harry's name was spewed from the goblet but he soon got over any suspicions of foul play when he realized that he no longer had to cheer for Cedric Diggory. It's not that he particularly disliked the bloke, he just much rather preferred supporting someone from his own house.

"What do you think the first task is gonna be? 'm thinkin' it can't be too dangerous, 'cause it's only the first one and they're supposed to get harder. But who knows, us wizards can be crazy-"

"Seamus, we're almost there. Why don't we just go find out?" Dean said, smiling at his obnoxious companion.

Seamus smiled and shrugged, "Suppose we could do that." 

"Do you think Harry will win?" Lavender asked, skipping up from behind. Her dirty blonde hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail with yellow and black ribbon.

"Dunno, he's kind of at a disadvantage." Dean said, tightening his scarf. It was November, putting them in the final stages of transition from the warm of summer to the cold of winter. Seamus really wasn't sure which was worse, the heat or the cold.

"But he  _did_ defeat  _You-Know-Who_ when he was only a wee baby." Seamus added. _  
_

"Fair point," Lavender shrugged, "Don't tell anyone, but I'm kind of hoping that if Cedric doesn't win, Viktor will." She didn't sound the least bit ashamed.

"Why don't you want Harry to win?" Dean asked, fixing a pointed look at her.

"Because Harry's alright but Viktor and Cedric just have that certain je ne sais quoi."

"You mean they're hotter than Harry." Seamus chided. He'd realized something along those lines as well but he figured it was just something people picked up on, right? It was in no way an indication that he could possibly be queer.

Dean side-eyed him, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, making Seamus' gut twist unpleasantly. Lavender scoffed and rolled her eyes, "What exactly are you insinuating, Seamus?"

"Well-"

"Nothing, he didn't mean anything by it. Where's Parvati? You two're usually inseparable." Dean said, distracting Lavender from another one of her tangents.

"She's going to meet me in the stands. She wanted to talk to professor Trelawney about her star chart, because she accidentally spilled ink all over it and needs a new one." Lavender answered, tightening her ponytail and dropping her previous annoyance at Seamus.

"That doesn't surprise me." Seamus muttered to Dean, who stifled a laugh while Lavender remained completely oblivious. They walked through the ever growing crowd and bustled and pushed to find seats. It wasn't as big an audience as a major event like the Quidditch World Cup would gather, but it was still quite impressive and different for the old school. Lavender insisted they find seats together despite the lack of enthusiasm from the boys following her. They managed to squeeze on a bench side-by-side near the back. Seamus had to lean into Dean to see past the outrageously tall bloke in front of them.

If it was anyone else he was leaning into, he may have felt awkward, but it was common for him and Dean to use each other as furniture, often resting their feet on the other's legs or using their shoulder as a pillow. Seamus may have been a little  _too_ excited to see the dragons  _right there in front of him_ , but he didn't think anyone had the right to judge, especially Dean, since his mouth was hanging open for at least a full minute. Watching, Fleur, Cedric, and Krum, Seamus almost incapacitated Dean multiple times while flailing about, shouting at the players and having exaggerated reactions whenever the dragon did anything.

However, he went still when Harry walked into the rocky arena to face the Hungarian Horntail. Harry seemed so much smaller than the other contestants, being only fourteen like Dean and himself. And Harry wasn't off to a great start. He seemed to have muttered a spell but nothing happened, causing Seamus to heavily lean against Dean. He didn't mean to, but he was too enthralled by the task to pay much attention to his own actions. At least he wasn't leaning into Lavender, that would've been awkward after-hand.

Harry ducked and rolled, dodging but never really attacking. Seamus had to hold back from yelling what the others did just so Harry wouldn't be crushed. But he knew it wouldn't be appreciated by Harry or anyone else, so he kept his mouth shut, clenching his jaw. Harry dived behind a rock as the Horntail blew its fire at him. Harry jumped out from behind his wall of safety and landed on his broomstick.

_Oh, that's what he was muttering earlier._

Seamus couldn't help but roar with the rest of the crowd as Harry flew into the air, finally showing a chance at actually getting the golden egg. He didn't know how Harry managed  _not_ to be engulfed by flames and made into human bacon, but he just went along with it, happy that his friend was able to dodge possible death. _  
_

But Seamus wasn't really sure how to react when the dragon broke from its (apparently flimsy,) chain, flying after Harry and causing concerned murmurs to erupt from the audience. Honestly, how had they messed up making a secure enough chain? Surel, there had to be some kind of spell they could put on it to keep it from breaking, right? Or at least just made it really freaking strong because it was a  _dragon_ after all.

Seamus' heart thumped in his chest, his hand clutching Dean's bicep like it was the only thing tethering him to this Earth. Despite the ever growing worry in his gut, Seamus still managed to cheer Harry on along with the others, which included Lavender who happened to have grabbed Seamus' thigh and was gripping it as tight as Seamus was Dean's arm.

When Harry took off toward the castle, the Horntail following suit, Seamus was sure he was going to pass out from stress and adrenaline. This tournament was going to be the death of him.

 

-

 

"I still can't believe Harry managed that!" Seamus said, still giddy from the previous day's events as he piled breakfast food onto his plate. "I mean, he tied for first! A fourth year from our house!"

Dean smiled and sorted his way through the fruit, until he found an acceptable apple. "I know. It's crazy. Maybe he actually does have a chance at winning."

"I'd say better than just a chance. He matched the ranks of Viktor Krum!" Seamus bit into his pear, bouncing slightly in his seat. He always had trouble sitting still. The excitement and thrill of the first task still thrummed through him. Harry had pulled off something most of the school had thought barely feasible for the young lad.

"Cedric came in second! That's not bad!" Lavender chimed in. For a reason unknown to Seamus, she'd chosen to sit next to him and contribute to Dean and his conversation.

"Well, both Harry and Krum came in first, so, really, it's more like Diggory came in third if you think about it." Seamus corrected, shrugging as he started in on his pudding.

Lavender huffed and stole Seamus' pear off his plate, pointedly taking a bite out of it as she raised her eyebrows. "There is  _literally_ an entire bowl of fruit right there." Seamus said, pushing the wooden bowl toward the blonde.

She just smirked and turned around to face Parvati, her hair whipping around and almost smacking Seamus in the face. He chuckled and looked at Dean, "She's a touchy one, isn't she?"

He was surprised to see Dean roll his eyes and continue eating his food, clearly discomforted. The silence stretched on to an uncomfortable length until Seamus finally leaned over and asked, "Something wrong, mate?"

This seemed to pull Dean out of his trance, as he met Seamus gaze and managed one of the most pathetic smiles Seamus had ever seen. "Nah, 'm fine." He tossed some scrambled eggs around his plate with his fork, shifting his eyes back down, "You haven't asked anyone to the dance yet, have you?"

Seamus shrugged and returned to a proper sitting position, avoiding looking at anyone. "Uh, no. But I'm not too worried about it." Somehow, his happy buzz from earlier had started to simmer out. "You ask that person you fancy yet?"

A smile tugged on Dean's lips as he adjusted in his seat, "Not yet. But I'm planning to soon."


	2. The Bathroom of Romance

The Great Hall was packed on early Saturday morning, as all the houses, plus Durmstrang and Beauxbaton gathered for breakfast. The school was still abuzz with chatter about the first task. Of course, with only two weeks left until the Yule ball, people were even more engrossed in the topic of dates and dresses and good snogging places. Seamus figured that anyone worth asking was probably already taken. He didn't mind going alone, though. 

Maybe he could spend his time doing something more productive than pondering the pros and cons of finding a below par date. Okay, that wasn't really his philosophy. He believed that everyone deserved respect and had someone out there that was the perfect puzzle piece to complete them, he didn't believe in "below par" but that didn't mean that he didn't find some people absurdly annoying.

"I think I'm gonna do it today." Dean said, breaking the silence that Seamus hadn't realized had settled.

"Do what?" He asked, buttering his piece of toast.

"Ask the person I fancy to the Yule Ball." 

_Oh._

Dean and his crush had completely slipped Seamus' mind and it wasn't very welcome back. Why did Dean even have to find a date or fancy anyone? They were only fourteen, still young and naive, barely passing their classes. Was it really a good idea to throw romance into the mix?

"That's cool. You finally gonna tell me who it is?" He asked, his nonchalance temporarily on the fritz.

Perhaps Seamus would've gotten an answer if he hadn't accidentally rested his elbow on the plate of butter, leaving Dean in a fit of giggles, unable to answer the question burning up Seamus' insides. He was such a klutz and he didn't understand  _why._ Why he had to do something ridiculous right then. He grabbed a napkin and tried to wipe it off his robes, when a spell was shot at him and he almost fell backwards from shock. But he looked down to see that the butter was gone and there wasn't even a grease stain.

"Seamus, you should probably start paying more attention to your surroundings." Hermione said, placing her wand back down and continuing to eat her food as though Seamus hadn't just made a fool of himself.

"Will do. Thanks." He muttered as he straightened his robes out. It just wasn't a normal day until Seamus messed up.

 

-

 

"I don't understand how anyone likes this class." Seamus muttered to Dean as they individually worked on their potions.

"Unless you're Slytherin." Dean replied, adding Mandrake Root to his brew. It was true, the only way you didn't have Professor Snape trying to find a way to get you expelled was if you were Slytherin and Seamus didn't see how that was fair. After all, Professor Mcgonagall taught Transfiguration and she wasn't biased. It's not like Snape was good at hiding it either, it was very clear that he despised those that didn't wear the precious green of the snake house. Seamus just found it odd that Dumbledore allowed one of his teachers to show such favoritism.

Seamus threw in some toad's eye and was met with a nasty explosion. He coughed away the smoke trying to kill his lungs and his eyes stung. How did this always happen? He was pretty sure his eyebrows were singed off and his face was covered in soot. Great.

He could hear the snickers of his classmates and Hermione's eye roll was practically audible. "Thomas, Finnigan, detention. You'll be cleaning the boys' lavatory after school." Snape said.

"What? For messing up a potion?" Seamus questioned, his eyebrows (if still there) furrowed.

"For not paying attention, whispering through my class, and  _then_ messing up your potion. Don't make me tack on an essay." Snape warned, only glancing over from his position. "Now go to the nurse's office and have her grow you some new eyebrows."

Seamus flushed red and gathered his things. Perfect. Just perfect.

 

-

 

Seamus met Dean in the boys' bathroom, cleaning supplies at the ready. "I've been thinking. Cleaning the bathroom isn't all that bad." Seamus said, as he grabbed a rag to wipe one of the toilets with.

Dean followed and scoffed, "Easy to say when it's not your chore at home."

"Could be worse, mate. Remember way back when Professor Lockhart worked here and Harry had to help him sign photos?"

Dean chuckled, "No, how do  _you_ remember that?"

Seamus shrugged before trying to cast a spell on the rag to make it clean the toilet, but it whipped out of his hand and flung across the room, landing right by the trash bin. He gave Dean a questioning look.

"Professor Snape enchanted them so that we can't use magic to clean." Dean answered, dropping to his knees to start cleaning.

Of course he did. The guy was the bloody epitome of someone with a Stick-Up-Their-Ass. Seamus wanted to find whatever it was that made Snape so vile and incinerate it. But unfortunately, he'd just have to settle for rolling his eyes and continuing on with his punishment. He might as well look at the bright side, at least he had his best mate with him instead of being stuck with Draco Malfoy or Pansy Parkinson, or even just by himself. The bathroom was far too big for him to ever completely clean before curfew. When he looked at it, maybe his pickings weren't so bad.

"You haven't asked anyone to the ball yet, have you?" Dean queried, pulling Seamus from his reverie. 

"Uh, no. Have you asked the mystery girl?" Seamus questioned, unable to keep the distaste out of his voice. He'd never be able to be an Auror, he was freaking bad at hiding things. Most things at least.

Dean gave a quick chuckle, "Not yet. I was hoping for a better place to do it, but I don't think I can wait any longer."

Seamus kept his eyes on the floor, trying not to look at his friend. This really wasn't a conversation he wanted to have while wiping up grime. It wasn't one he  _ever_ wanted to have. "What d'you mean?"

Seamus wasn't looking up, but he could tell Dean was looking at him. "Well, the boys' bathroom isn't exactly the most romantic place, now is it?"

Seamus stopped cleaning. He looked up and locked eyes with Dean, unable to look away. His stomach was filled with butterflies but also dread. It was like his best dream was coming true, but also his worst nightmare. The mixed emotions had his stomach twisting and pulling and his heart racing at an impossible speed. "What?" He muttered, barely audible. His voice was foreign to his own ears, it was so small, so hopeful, yet somehow terrified.

"I've been trying to pluck up the courage to ask," Dean said, now sitting up right, his gaze unwavering in intensity, though a smirk played at his lips. "I've really liked you for awhile now and I was trying to find the perfect way to ask, that's why I've been going to the library so much, Hermione was trying to help me. I, uh, I just can't really wait any longer." He cleared his throat and his nerves were on display on his face. Seamus would've felt bad for the poor bloke if he wasn't sure already that he too was a mess and that he was having a complete meltdown on the inside. "Seamus Finnigan, will you go to the Yule Ball with me?"

Merlin. Seamus had wanted to hear those words come from Dean so badly, but his fear overcame his happiness. "I-I, uh," He stuttered. He jumped to his feet, "I-I've gotta go." And he bolted for the door.

"Seamus-" Dean called, but he was already gone.

 

-

 

_I'm not gay. I'm not gay. How could Dean possibly think I'm gay._ Was racing through Seamus' head as he ran down the corridors of Hogwarts. He wasn't sure where he was going, he just knew that he had to get out of there. Fast. 

If Dean thought he was gay, did that mean others did too? What if someone said something to his mother? The thought shook Seamus to his core. But  _why_ did Dean think he was gay? Was it because he'd never gone on a date with a girl? But he'd never gone on a date with anyone. Maybe it was because he was so hyper all the time. It didn't matter why he thought it, what mattered was blowing that idea out of the water. He had to disprove anyone who thought he was queer.

Seamus could tell his face was gaunt as he pushed passed students in the hall. Everyone was looking at him, he felt their eyes boring into him. "Seamus, are you all right?" Lavender called from her position by the window, halting the blond. "Y-yeah." He stuttered, walking over to her. She was with Parvati and they appeared to have just been loitering, looking at the always amazing view from the castle's window.

"Are you sure?" She looked worried, her brow furrowed and her lips tugged downward. Parvati leaned against the wall by Lavender's side, her face mixed with annoyance and genuine concern.

Why was Lavender so nosy? Couldn't she tell Seamus was having a mental breakdown and needed to be alone? He needed to sort everything out before he could properly talk to people; to  _Dean_. _  
_

Wait,  _Lavender._

"Ye-ah, I'm fine." He managed the most strained of smiles before continuing, "I was actually looking for you." He lied.

"Really, what for?" She asked, pushing herself off of the wall.

"I was just wondering if you haven't got a date already, if you'd like to go to the Yule Ball with me?"

She glanced at Parvati before answering, "Yeah, sure." The enthusiasm in her voice was practically nonexistent, but Seamus didn't really care, he was too wrapped up in his own problems. He audibly sighed with relief. Now people wouldn't question which way he swung, right?

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's really short but I'm going to try to make the next one longer, promise! As for the lovely comments on the last chapter, thank you all and I'll do my best to incorporate the other LGBTQIA+ characters, though their stories may not come fully into view until later chapters, because that's when things in the community get fleshed out more. Anyway, thanks for read. Let me know what you think in the comments.


	3. They Just Can't Stay Away

Dean needed to give up. He tried and he tried to talk to Seamus but it was all futile and was just a waste of their time. Dean, for whatever reason, thought Seamus was gay, which meant other people  _also_ thought Seamus was gay, but not just that, but gay for Dean. How was Seamus supposed to hangout with Dean if he knew that his best friend thought he was queer. He could never risk that kind of assumption spilling to his mother.

For the past few days, Dean had attempted to cool the situation down and just calmly talk to a frantic Seamus, but anytime he got close, the panicked blond would scurry for the exit, barely muttering an excuse as he went. Seamus didn't have the energy to keep running around in circles trying to avoid a topic that would inevitably come up when he was forced to redo his detention that weekend. Of course professor Snape would make them clean the bathroom again because Seamus ran out and apparently Dean ran after him. 

Seamus would have been perfectly happy cleaning the lavatory by himself, which he clearly expressed to the head of Slytherin only to be sneered at and told that his punishment would remain the same. He didn't see why he  _had_ to do it with Dean, maybe Snape noticed the tension between the usual best mates and couldn't resist the urge to push them into a painfully awkward situation.

Being stuck in the same bathroom that all this started in wasn't a thrilling prospect, so Seamus tried to put across how much disdain he had toward Dean and any idea of fleshing out the incident. Except Seamus didn't have anything against Dean, quite the opposite. Every fiber of his being was aching to chat with Dean and tell him about his day and how annoying Pansy Parkinson can be when she's had too many sweets, and for Dean to show him his newest drawing and for them to bicker about whether football or quidditch was better (quidditch, obviously.)

That's why he struggled to push Dean away when the taller boy reached over his short companion and grabbed the book Seamus was trying - and failing - to reach on one of the higher shelves in the library. He handed it to Seamus and gave him that stupidly adorable, lopsided smile that made Seamus' weak heart melt and threw his stomach into little knots. "You know, you could've just used Wingardium Leviosa to get it down?"

Seamus ignored Dean's comment, took the book and quickly looked away from Dean, muttering a faint _thanks_ before rushing for the door. Dean, of course, trailed behind him. Seamus could practically hear the bloke worrying his lip, as he kept up with Seamus' quick pace. Dean's legs were outrageously longer than Seamus', so the poor boy had no chance of getting away.

"Come on, please stop avoiding me." Dean pleaded, grabbing Seamus' shoulder, gently turning him around.

"Wha-what're you talking about? I'm  _not_ avoidin' you." Seamus tried to act like the mere proposition was ridiculous, which it was, but only because it was true and no one in the castle would've thought Seamus would avoid Dean, not in a million years.

Dean just folded his arms and raised his eyebrow at his shorter friend, "Really?"

"I-I just-"

"Seamus!" Seamus knew by the way Dean's face fell and his eyes dropped to the floor that the holder of that voice was Lavender. And just like that, she was wrapping her arms around him from behind.

"H-hey, Lavender. Where's Parvati, I thought you were studying with her today?" He tried to sound happy to see her as he squirmed out of her tight embrace.

"I was, but we got into a fight. She can be so daft sometimes." The disgust in Lavender's voice was practically palpable and Seamus didn't want to touch it with a ten-foot pole.

"Oh, sorry to hear that." He settled on saying, hoping it was the safest option that wouldn't lead to her fleshing the story out.

"It's not a big deal, besides, we need to sort some things out about the Ball. Like what you're going to wear." She scanned him from head-to-toe, as if actually taking measurements in her head. Dean remained off to the side, not leaving, but not contributing to the conversation. He kept glancing at the duo, but never for more than a second, before throwing his gaze back to the floor.

"Yeah, yeah, let's do that." Seamus agreed. Indulging Lavender would no doubt put him in an uncomfortable position, but he couldn't be around Dean any longer. He felt like he could start groveling and apologizing any moment and that just wouldn't help the situation at all. "We should plan by the lake."

Lavender clapped her hands together and gave a small squeal, "Perfect! Outdoor scenery is good to get the ideas flowing."

"But-" Dean tried to protest but Lavender looped her arm in Seamus' and started dragging him down the hall.

"Sorry, Dean. You can have him back in a few hours."

 

-

 

"Seamus Finnigan!" When he heard his name called, he wanted to cower in a corner and hide until the innate sense of danger stopped overwhelming him, but he knew that Hermione was on a mission and she wasn't going to stop until she had him pinned and listening.

Seamus bowed his head and started walking faster through the crowd of people, trying to evade the apparently angry Granger searching for him. He knew he couldn't avoid the inevitable, but he wanted to have at least enough time to mentally prepare himself for the onslaught of Hermione. She was a rather small girl and her frizzy hair and poor posture didn't help to make her intimidating, but when she was angry, she was  _scary._ Hell, Seamus had heard that she'd punched Draco and that was a feat all on its own.

"Don't you dare try to hide from me, Finnigan." Her voice wasn't loud anymore because she was now much closer, but her words were stern and sent chills down Seamus' spine. He would've given anything to transfigure into a turtle and hide away in himself.

"'m not, 'ermione, I promise." He squeaked when she grabbed him by the robes and started pulling him toward a broom closet.

The closet was dark and Seamus was pushed up against one of the shelves. He didn't know how close Hermione was, but he wanted to create as much room between them as possible.

" _Lumos."_ Hermione illuminated the room, coating her distraught features in light. He didn't think it made sense, but he could've sworn that Hermione's hair was bigger than usual, like it grew with her fury.

"What is wrong with you?" She basically snarled.

"What-what are you talking about?" Seamus asked, his hand clutching the wand in his robes. He knew Hermione was too smart to actually cast a spell on him, she'd never risk detention or suspension like that, but the idea loomed in the air, making the hair on his neck stick up. Honestly, Ron was an idiot for not asking her to the ball already. She really was one-in-a-million.

She rolled her eyes and took a deep breath, calming herself. "Dean, Seamus, I'm talking about Dean. He's been so worried ever since  _you_ started avoiding him. He won't even tell me  _why_ this whole thing started." She didn't seem angry anymore, just annoyed and exasperated.

Seamus relaxed ever so slightly, "Things are just a bit awkward between us right now, no big deal." He assured her, shrugging and refusing to meet her eyes.

"You two were best friends, inseparable. What in the world could've changed that?" He kept quiet until it was clear he wasn't going to answer. Hermione sighed and leaned back against the wall. "Boys are idiots."

"Can't argue with that." Seamus looked up and he and Hermione exchanged a weak smile. "He asked me to the ball."

Hermione's eyebrows drew together in confusion until she finally breathed an  _oh._ "Seamus, it's fine if you're not queer. Your friendship with Dean doesn't have to change."

He scoffed and combed a hand through his hair. "But he bloody fancies me! Why would he even think 'm gay anyway? I don't act like a f-"

"Seamus Finnigan, if you finish that sentence I will personally hex you." Hermione readjusted her robes and placed a hand on Seamus' shoulder. "Friendships can often be mistaken as something more, it's not bad. Just tell Dean,  _calmly,_ that you don't feel that way about him and everything will be fine. But you can't just ignore him. It'll drive you both insane and you'll take me with you."

"You're right. I do miss 'im. I'll talk to him during detention. I just need some time to get my bearings."

Hermione smiled and nodded, "Okay, now that our counseling session is over, I have to go before I'm late."

 

-

 

The walk to the lavatory stretched on forever, Seamus' heart in his throat. He wanted to talk to Dean, he felt like a piece of him had been harshly cut out and kept just out of reach, but the prospect of Dean saying that they couldn't be friends because he liked Seamus, or that Dean might think that Seamus was secretly gay was eating Seamus up inside.

He pushed open the bathroom door and immediately grabbed something to clean with, walking over to the toilets and wiping one down. Dean took a spot by his side, the silence heavy as they avoided each other's gaze.

"I'm sorry." Dean finally said, breaking the quiet.

"For what?" Seamus asked, not looking up.

"You know what for, Shay. I didn't know you were straight, I thought we had, I dunno... _something,_ but now I know that we don't. I just want to be friends again."

"We never stopped being friends." Seamus muttered.

"Friends don't avoid each other."

"I was just scared that- I don't even know, mate, I was just scared."

The silence was pregnant. Seamus didn't know what else to say, but he could feel that Dean was trying to muster together a sentence.

"So, we're good? No more ignoring me?" Dean asked, grabbing Seamus' shoulder.

Seamus looked up, smiling. "'course."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not even going to deny that this chapter is utter shit. I apologize for that because you guys deserve better, but this is just a filler. I think the next one will be a little bit more "fun."  
> I'm also really sorry for the late update, it seems that whenever I promise to update soon, I just fall completely off the wagon. Anyway, even though this was crap, I still hope you enjoyed!


	4. The Dance

"I don't know if it fits properly." Seamus said, fidgeting in his clothes. He stood in front of the full-body mirror, adjusting the new suit. The dance was that evening and he didn't feel prepared in the slightest. What if Lavender wanted to go  _further_ than just dancing? What if people-if Lavender-didn't buy that he fancied her?

"Rubbish. You look absolutely dashing!" Lavender squealed, brushing out the creases over Seamus' biceps. 

Seamus put on his smile, turned around and slung his arms around her waist. "No one will even notice me compared to you."

Her face flushed red and she fixed his collar. She kissed him on the cheek and then pulled him by his hand out of the room. "This dance is going to be so fun!" She said excitedly, "Even if Parvati's going to be there." She added under her breath.

"Did something happen between you and Parvati?" Seamus asked.

Lavender looked back at him and smiled, "Nothing at all." Her tone was sweet again but there was an edge to it, like she wanted to tack something on. Apparently friendships were just tumbling apart at Hogwarts. First Ron and Hermione, and then Seamus and Dean-though they'd made up-and now Parvati and Lavender. Maybe someone'd put a curse on the school, all Gryffindors were doomed to have their close friendships go through nasty turmoil.

The Great Hall was packed with students, all dressed in fancy clothes. Most of the girls were in elegant dresses and the men in charming suits, but there were a select few who had just worn pajamas or sweatpants. Seamus had to admit that he admired their complete lack of caring. Comfort over beauty was always Seamus' motto.

Except for tonight.

Lavender had insisted that they go in coordinated outfits, leaving Seamus to a small collection of clothing that he could actually wear. He was rather short for a bloke, so, anything he wanted to fit properly and not have loose bits, had to be tailored and he wasn't exactly swimming in wealth. But Lavender was persistent and contrary to his initial thoughts, she actually helped pay for it, despite Seamus' protests.

Everyone shuffled about, getting into two clusters and clearing the middle for when the champions and their dates arrived. Lavender scanned the room and apparently didn't find what she was looking for, because she grunted and folded her arms, glaring at nothing in particular. "We don't have to stay here." Seamus whispered, hoping to appease whatever was aggravating the blonde, but she just brushed his offer off with a wave of her hand.

Music erupted in the hall and the doors swung open, revealing the four champions. Everyone applauded as Fleur and her partner, Roger Davies waltzed in, followed quickly by Krum and- _Hermione Granger?_

Okay, that threw Seamus through a hoop. Krum had asked  _Hermione_ to the ball? And  _that_ was Hermione? Her usually big and frizzy hair was tamed into a delicate style. She made a point of standing up straight and something Seamus hadn't initially noticed, was that her teeth were no longer disproportionate. Not to mention her dress was so beautiful but not overwhelming. To paraphrase: she was breathtaking. _  
_

And Ron was an idiot.

After Krum and Hermione, came Cedric and Cho Chang, the rumored  _first choice_ of Harry Potter, who was last in the line with his companion, Parvati Patil. Lavender's eyes immediately landed on Parvati and they shrank into slits, annoyance and anger plastered on her face. "So stupid." She muttered and pulled Seamus over toward the side of the room with everyone else, to clear a spot for the champions to open the dance.

The whole time, Lavender's gaze was on Parvati, and Seamus had no idea why. Harry was awkward and kinda stiff, leaving their dance not the most appealing to the eyes. Soon, others joined, Professor Mcgonagall and Dumbledore, Hagrid and Madame Olympe Maxime, along with several couples.

"Come on, Seamus, dance with me." Lavender said, dragging him onto the dance floor. Seamus wasn't great at dancing but he tried his best and didn't fall flat on his face, which, in his book, was a win. 

"Wow, look at you. Guess Lavender's knocked the clumsy right outta ya." Dean said, pulling Seamus' attention away from dancing, causing him to trip up and almost fall over Lavender, but she caught him and chuckled.

"And seems like you just knocked it right back into him." Lavender said, her tone light again. She helped him regain his balance before offering to go grab them all drinks.

"So, how's the date going?" Dean asked, once Lavender had disappeared, his hands shoved in his trouser pockets.

Seamus was almost caught off guard by the question. He sort of figured that since the whole  _asking him out thing,_ Dean would avoid the topic of romantic interests and such, but here he was, blatantly bringing it up.

"Uh, good. She seems a bit miffed about somethin', not sure what, though."

A smile tugged on Dean's lips, but Seamus could tell he was holding back by the way his lips hid in his mouth, creating an almost perfectly straight line. "What? What is it?" Seamus asked, exasperation already in his voice.

Dean shrugged and shook his head, "Nothing, it's nothing. You're just kind of oblivious, that's all."

Seamus wasn't sure if he should take offense to that. Sure, it was kind of true, after all, how many spells and potions had gone haywire because of him? Of course, Dean had no malicious intent behind it but Seamus could still feel the small flush creeping up his neck from embarrassment. What was he being oblivious about? Lavender? She didn't hide her emotions very well, so, Seamus didn't see how she could possibly be hiding anything that was  _obvious_ to everyone (or at least Dean) but not him. "What d'you mean? I ain't oblivious."

Dean cleared his throat and smiled, "Right, right. 'Course you're not."

Seamus grunted and rummaged in his mind for clues as to what Dean was talking about, but was rudely interrupted from his thoughts when Lavender came back, meticulously holding three cups of punch, passing them to the two boys.

"D'you have a date, Dean?" Lavender asked, her voice conversational. She didn't mean to bring up a potentially sensitive topic, that much Seamus knew, but she sort of had a knack for putting her foot in it.

Dean pursed his lips and swayed slightly, "No, never got around to finding one."

Lavender's expression was sympathetic as her thumb rubbed circles into the side of her cup. "Well, you're welcome to hangout with us if you want." 

He really shouldn't have been, but Seamus was always a bit surprised when Lavender was genuinely nice or compassionate. It's not that she was a mean person, but she seemed more like someone who'd do whatever it took to help themselves, rather than paying attention to those around them. Seamus supposed he was wrong. He couldn't help but think that Lavender deserved to give him a good slap across the face; for a multitude of reasons, actually. One being that he brought her on this date when he didn't even fancy her, the other being that he judged her without  _properly_ knowing her. He was always warned to never judge a book by its cover, but Seamus never really gave much attention to warnings.

"That's sweet, Lav, but I don't want to invade on your first  _official_ date. Have fun, though." He waved goodbye to them and pushed his way through the crowd and out of Seamus' line of vision.

"Poor chap. Doesn't even have a date." Lavender said, her smile pulled into a frown.

"Come on, a date's not everything. Hell, Harry barely made the deadline to get his and he's a champion." That made Lavender's features return to their sour composure. He must've said something wrong but, quite frankly, he was too scared to ask what.

"Right." Her voice was tight and her nostrils flared every few seconds, indicating that Seamus should definitely tread carefully. She roughly placed her drink on a table and took Seamus', doing the same with his. "Let's just dance."

The music had since picked up, The Weird Sisters' sound wafted through the room, banging against Seamus eardrums, confirming what he'd already suspected; they were too close to the stage. He guided Lavender a bit farther away, more toward the back corner, where they danced-if it could be called that-next to each other. Lavender was clearly letting all her frustrations out in her rigid, somewhat violent thrashes.

Seamus remained a safe, yet friendly distance away, hopping and swaying to the music. His eyes were closed for what could've been an eternity before he opened them and they landed on Dean. A lonely Dean, sitting on one of the chairs against the wall, his drink held loosely in his hand as he watched the party goers bustle around. A pang of sympathy and guilt thrummed through Seamus, almost rendering him paralyzed. Excluding a few peachy moments in his life, he didn't think that he'd ever felt so horrible.

Dean caught him staring and smiled weakly, raising his cup in acknowledgement of Seamus, who nodded and continued his dance, but a bit slower and he always found his gaze drifting back toward his friend. The one he'd abandoned. Ignored. Left dateless. Seamus really was a horrible best mate.

A slow song started playing again and Seamus barely paid attention as he looped his arms around Lavender's waist, her doing the same and tucking close, both just swaying in a circle. Seamus kept staring at Dean. He couldn't help it. He wanted to tear his eyes away and focus on the beautiful date he'd brought but it's like his body had completely betrayed him.

Lavender, however, didn't seem to notice, she was too caught up in staring at Harry, Ron, Parvati, and Padma, who were all seated together, slumped back and looking disgruntled. For once that evening, Lavender wasn't looking at her best friend with malice behind her eyes. Seamus took that all in and then found himself looking at Dean, again.

There was a strange comfort in just mindlessly staring at his friend. It felt familiar, like he could look at him all night long and never get bored. Like, the longer he stared, the more details he could make out on his face, the more he noticed the ticks of his body. Staring at Dean was like being home for Seamus. And Dean seemed like a much better alternative than his real home.

"Let's get out of here." Lavender said, pulling Seamus from his reverie.

"What?" He questioned, unsure of what she'd told him.

"I said, let's get out of here."

Seamus' heart raced in his chest and his voice caught in his throat. "I-" He squeaked. He knew what  _let's get out of here_ actually meant and he was in no way prepared. He didn't want to sneak out and hide away in bushes and carriages like all the other teens were doing. He didn't want to get caught by a teacher or worse, actually have to go all the way through with it. "I dunno. The dance is pretty nice and I, uh, I don't think I'm ready for," he paused, flailing his arms around, "all that."

Lavender sighed and rolled her eyes, "That's not what I meant, Seamus." She sounded much more exhausted now, like all her energy had been spent on dancing and sending negative vibes to Parvati. He glanced over his shoulder and saw that Parvati was no longer sitting with Harry, she was dancing with some Durmstrang lad. 

"Oh, uh, okay." He agreed, quickly glancing to see Dean still sitting in the same chair, by himself. A few girls had come up, asking him to dance since Seamus had been watching, but Dean politely declined all of them, choosing the solitude of being dateless at the ball, over dancing with a girl he didn't fancy or know much of. Which, really wasn't the Dean Seamus knew.

Lavender hooked her elbow around Seamus' and led him out the exit. Seamus kept looking over his shoulder at Dean as he went, even more guilt pooling in his gut. He felt like he was just abandoning him all over again.

Lavender stopped him at the base of the stairs. "Seamus, you can go back in there if you want."

"What? Why would I do that?"

Lavender scratched her forehead, screwing up her face in thought. "Listen," She said carefully, "it's cool if you're not telling people or whatever, but I just don't want to be strung along in this."

"Telling people what?" Seamus was feeling genuinely confused as his voice went a pitch higher in tone and his heart started pounding.

"I'm not blind. I saw the way you were staring at him the whole time. You clearly want to be more than friends. Just talk to him about it and I'm sure things will go your way. I'm definitely sure he likes you back."

Seamus took a step back, heaving his breaths. He felt angry, scared, sad, exhausted; practically every emotion in the book except any of the happy ones. "What d'you mean? I don't fancy Dean! I-I'm  _not_ gay!"

Lavender's eyebrows drew together and she put a comforting hand on his bicep, "Seamus, I know that look you guys give each other. It's the same one I give Parvati. You like Dean. Frankly, I've kind of suspected it for years."

Seamus didn't know what to do, what to say. His body and mind overwhelmed with panic. Even when he tried to convince the school, _convince himself,_ that he was straight, he still ended up in the same spot. How was he supposed to be straight when everyone thought he was gay? He was too rattled, too confused. He couldn't process anything or form coherent thoughts. 

So, he ran.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I tried hard to write this one out in record time. I was going to wait to post it, but since I made you guys wait so long for the last chapter, I figured that I owe you one. I can't make any promises about when the next one will be out, because I tend to lose my inspiration when I set time limits on myself.  
> However, your comments really keep me motivated. I know that I don't reply to them but I assure you that I read every single one!  
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Leave me some feedback in the comments and have a wonderful day!


	5. Maybe Loony Doesn't Mean Bad

Seamus rummaged through the lines and lines of books in the library. He'd been searching for over an hour. He was sure that he'd breathed in far more dust than would ever be advisable. But he wasn't about to give up. He knew the potion he was looking for would be in one of these old things and he would be damned if he couldn't find it.

 

* * *

 

 

Dean was fed up. Fed up with the world, the universe, nasty students, idiotic parents, and Seamus Finnigan. Of course, he could never really be fed up with Seamus, not in his core, but shit if he wasn't pissed off. It seemed like the galaxy was out to get him, he'd turn a corner and fate would snap its jaw around his ankle, injecting him with vile luck.

Dean was Seamus' best mate, they used to tell each other everything, but all of the sudden, it was like Dean was the last person Seamus' wanted to see, let alone talk to. Sure, Dean fancied him, imagined them doing all the sappy stuff in those cheesy rom-coms his mum liked to watch, and he'd sometimes dream of kissing him or...more, but none of that mattered. All Dean wanted now, was to have his best friend back.

The world apparently didn't like that idea.

He rubbed his temples with his index fingers, his eyes shut tight as he tried to figure out what he'd done wrong this time. He knew that it all started when he'd asked Seamus to the ball, that seemed to have pushed the tumbleweed of misfortune down the hill, setting off a string of undesirable events. But they'd made amends. It wasn't perfect, but they talked, laughed, and shared silence, but the night Seamus ran out of the ball, things had gone awry again. He'd barely even talked to Dean on Christmas morning, instead taking refuge on his bed, the divider drawn.

Dean recalled briefly talking to Seamus as he danced with Lavender, but the rest of the evening he spent on his own, sitting off to the side, enjoying the enthusiasm that encapsulated the Great Hall, occasionally glancing at the dancing couple he rather envied. But before he even realized what was happening, Seamus and Lavender left. He'd gathered himself and gone to see where'd they'd went off to, only to hear the last fragments of what couldn't really be considered a conversation. Seamus burst out and Dean raced over to Lavender to find out what had happened. She refused to answer, saying, _you two are so blind. Just talk to each other for once and stop being daft._ _  
_

Dean searched for Seamus after that. Boy, did he search. Everywhere. The dorm, the library, the lavatories (even the girls',) the garden, the lake, and yet there was no blond haired, short, lovable, Irish idiot to be seen. Dean sat on his bed, exhausted from running all over the castle, only to have Seamus walk in not even minutes after him. Seamus flopped onto his bed and closed the curtain. Dean didn't know what had happened, but he had the sense to realize that Seamus wasn't in the talking mood and any pushing or prodding from Dean, would only shove Seamus farther into whatever dark abyss he was spiraling down.

The night led to many more awkwardly forced conversations and nonchalant tones. The insincerity of it all made Dean internally cringe, desiring nothing more than to casually and fully talk to his friend again. He tried many a time. And no matter what he said, he was met with the same rigid smile and harshly light voice and then an excuse as to why they couldn't talk longer.

"Are you all right?" 

Dean jumped in his seat, not expecting anyone to talk to him, (everyone seemed to avoid unnecessary communication with him since the Yule Ball.) Luna giggled, placing her hand over her mouth and easily gliding into the seat next to Dean, plopping her books onto the old desk. Dean was hanging out in the library because he'd asked around and was told that Seamus had been spending an obscene amount of time there. But alas, he didn't come anymore. Figures.

"You looked sad, so, I thought I'd try to cheer you up." She smiled at him, sweet and full of nothing but good intention. Her long blonde hair was pulled up messily into a bun, her wand stuck safely behind her left ear. Butterbeer bottle caps with string laced through them were hung around her neck. Her feet remained bare beneath the table, her toes fidgeting in constant movement.

Dean smiled, a weak thing really, but there was something about Luna that brought happier spirits. "'M fine." He said, his words jumbled a bit from the lack of use of his voice.

"No you're not." Luna insisted, her words blunt but her tone gentle. "He's just scared."

Dean looked at her in confusion, "Seamus?"

She nodded and flipped open one of her books, pursing her lips slightly as she turned the pages, searching for the right one. "He needs a little time. The most important thing is that you don't give up on him."

"Wait, what's he scared of? Me? I'd never do-"

She shook her head, causing Dean to trail off, "He's scared of himself. I think we all are at times." She paused, "Humans are such complicated creatures." She stared off for a moment as she said this, but then started moving pages again.

Luna continued to perplex Dean. She was a bundle of complicated things-like everyone else-but she wasn't afraid to show her truest colors, the purest parts of herself and that's what separated her from the rest.

"Why would Seamus be scared of himself?" Dean asked, all his attention on Luna now.

She breathed a breathy sigh, stopping her page turning. "There are many reasons that a person could fear how they truly are. But I believe Seamus doesn't want to confront his sexuality and his feelings for you."

Dean sat up straighter, gulping though his mouth and throat were dry. "Feelings for...me?"

Luna smiled, as if amused by Dean's reaction and the smallness of his voice. "Yes. But I suggest that you don't overwhelm him. He appears to be very sensitive at the moment." She said everything with certainty but her words were wispy, reminding Dean of a feather rolling on a soft breeze. Or maybe he was just a bit disoriented from possibly having his hopes confirmed. Although, Luna was renowned for believing wholeheartedly of questionable things.

Malfoy, Goyle, Pansy, and some other Slytherins walked in. Draco's robes billowing behind him like the villain of a superhero movie. He sneered at Dean, ultimately only annoying him some. But Pansy leaned over Luna's shoulder, a smug grin plastered on her pale face, "What're you reading, Loony? A book on how to turn trash into ugly jewelry?" She hooked a finger through Luna's bottle cap necklace, lightly tugging on it before letting it fall back into place. 

The Slytherins burst into exaggerated laughter. Anger boiled in Dean. They had no right to be so rude, so blatantly mean. He stood up to fire a retort, but Luna eased him back into his seat, her expression calm as ever. "I should be going now." She glanced over her shoulder, "I don't think this will be a suitable study place anymore."

"What? You don't have to leave just because they're being pigheaded-"

"Really, Dean, it's fine." She gathered her books in her arms, stepping back from the table. She fixed Dean with a look of what he could only assume was sympathy, her head tilted to the side, "Don't leave him, Dean. He's going to need you now more than ever."

He nodded, sincere in his agreement. He'd never leave Seamus. He couldn't. As much pain as the past couple of months had brought him, he needed Seamus and right now, it seemed like Seamus needed him too.

 

* * *

 

 

After hours-days, of what seemed like fruitless searching, he finally found the book he was looking for. Wedged way back in the forbidden section of the library, between two monstrosities that were for some reason considered books, Seamus found what he needed. It was old and covered in dust from years and years of not being used. The green leather the pages were bound in, was worn and tattered and for the faintest of moments, Seamus feared that the parchment within would be tarnished, unreadable.

He was relieved to open it and see wrinkly, disgusting, legible pages. He quickly slipped the book into his bag, creeping out of the library and barely managing to sneak past Mr. Filch on his way, but the fates seemed to be on his side. He snuck out past the halls and made his way out of the castle, creeping into one of the greenhouses. It was the last in the lineup and wasn't often used, mostly containing old supplies and dried up plants.

He placed the book on a rickety table, flipping to the page he desired. He skimmed the lines, a nervous smile peeking on his lips as he read what he believed to be his redemption-salvation even. For the first time in what seemed like forever, he could feel a sliver of hope. He knew he could do it. He could brew this potion.

He could fix himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't even going to write tonight but I decided I'd write a little and then it just sort of flowed and I'm pretty happy with it. I hope you enjoyed. Leave me some feedback in the comments.
> 
> P.S. Thanks again for the support with this story! <3


	6. The Greenhouse

The atmosphere had  _changed._ Dean wasn't sure exactly how, but things were different. Seamus would bustle about all hours of the day, his energy high but his entire exterior oozed exhaustion. He had purple bags shadowing his eyes, his eyelids twitchier than usual. Even his breathing was different, heavy and rough. Seamus' face usually glowed, in a way, his smile seeming permanent and his eyes fixed in interest and wonder, but everything about his features seemed lank now and it worried Dean to no end.

He'd backed off from harassing the blond with his practically constant poking, instead taking to just being present almost all the time. That was getting harder, though. Seamus moved around nonstop, running to class, to meals, to unknown places that had  _bad_ written all over them. Dean wondered if Seamus ever slept, he was certain that he'd heard Seamus moving around in the night. He supposed it could have been Harry-knowing how much that bloke got up to-but he somehow recognized the small sounds. That's when he questioned how he'd become  _so_ familiar with his best mate's habits.

The castle was abuzz with excitement for the next task, coming up in a few measly weeks. Dean could feel the anxious energy seeping from Harry. The poor guy was like one of those jittery chihuahuas that peed itself every few minutes. Except without the pee, as far as he knew at least. It was a big mystery what the next task was going to be, just as the last one had been-or was supposed to be. Dean had heard that all the contestants had somehow found out about the dragons. This time, the egg was the clue and Dean had heard enough of its screeching melody in the tent after Harry'd captured it. He was perfectly fine in his bubble of naïvety.

Except when it came to Seamus and his unknown whereabouts in the late hours of the night, but he knew that he had to give Seamus his room, not peeking over his shoulder like he wasn't to be trusted. That was one of Dean's downfalls, he worried like a bloody badger. Always concerned about the folks around him. Seamus had helped ease him of that when they'd started hanging out, but now he was the primary reason that Dean was going to have premature wrinkles by the time he's twenty. As long as Seamus was around, then he didn't care if he looked like the bad side of a prune.

"Snape or Moody?" Ginny asked, sitting next to Dean by the fire in the Gryffindor common room. Her red hair was pulled back out of her face with a blue ribbon. Her robes slung down from her shoulders, tousled from a day packed with studies and running around. She looked exhausted as she threw down her books and scrolls, sighing heavily as she scanned over it all.

Dean set down his quill in his inkwell. He'd only written three sentences and he needed a twelve-hundred word essay. "Snape. We've got the bloody Triwizard Tournament going on and he won't let us have a bit of leeway?"

Ginny groaned in agreement flipping open her potion book and turning the pages until she landed on the right one. "What've you got to write? Mine's the Dogbreath Potion. I don't know who in their right mind thought up this lovely thing." Her nose was scrunched in disgust as she started jotting down words on her parchment, glancing at the book every few seconds.

"Twelve-hundred word essay on  _Baruffio's Brain Elixir._ I could use a swig of it right now. My mind's absolute mush, I can't even focus enough to muster together a paragraph, let alone a thousand words." Dean stared fixedly at the fire, his mind wandering to thoughts of Seamus and what he was getting up to or if he had the sense to be safe-knowing him, he probably didn't. With Dean's luck, he was likely running down corridors and across moving stares waving scissors around and shouting provocations at Peeves.

Ginny leaned over and looked at the work strewn across the floor in front of Dean, her shoulder brushing his and her hair falling close to his face. "You misspelled Baruffio." She pointed to the second sentence, a smirk quirking her lips as she tried not to laugh at the anguished noise that erupted from Dean's throat. "It's not that big a deal, Hermione'll probably look over it for you if you ask." She shrugged and moved away from Dean's space and back into her own.

"I know. I just feel like my brain is scrambled."

"What's got you so bugged, anyhow?" She asked, her brow furrowed in curiosity and concern. Her gaze tinted with fascination.

"Nothing. It's just Seamus. He's been acting so fidgety and weird. I barely even see him anymore and it's driving me mad." He waved his hands in exasperation, adding emphasis on the trauma this was dragging him through.

Ginny nodded in understanding, "Guys can be really weird," She glanced over her shoulder at Harry, who was sitting in the corner with Hermione and Ron, heads together, talking quietly. "Sometimes you just have to do what's best for you, you know? You can't spend your whole life pining and worrying over someone else, neglecting your own needs and sanity. But you shouldn't abandon your friends either."

"But I can't just focus on me. Heck," Dean threw his hands in the air, "I don't even feel like myself without Seamus. There's no way I can just  _not_ look after him. He's my best mate and sometimes best mates run you through hoops."

Ginny shook her head, her lips pursed. "I didn't mean stop looking out for him. I did say that you should stick with your friends. All I meant was, you can't wring yourself dry. If you keep letting this whole mess turn your head upside-down, you're not going to be very much help to Seamus or yourself."

"What're you two up to?" Fred asked, plopping down next to Ginny, accompanied by George-as usual-who sat next to Dean.

"Oi, Fred, give them a little space. They clearly have a thing going." George winked at Dean, his face as bright as ever, glowing with constant enthusiasm and amusement, just like his twin.

"It's only fair to warn you mate," Fred leaned in, "You hurt our little sister, there'll be hell to pay." His face was too serious for Dean's comfort and so was the proximity. He could barely breathe between the two.

Ginny rolled her eyes, her cheeks pink as she pushed Fred away. "Stop it." She glared at the pair of them, "This is a  _private_ conversation."

 " _Private._ " George elongated the word and smiled knowingly. Except he didn't know. He was completely bonkers. Sure, Ginny was attractive and Dean was bi-that was the conclusion he'd come to when he'd done extensive research caused by weird fluttery feelings in his stomach when he talked to his best friend-but Ginny wasn't in the running for Dean. There was only one person in that race and he was flailing about before the finish line.

 

* * *

 

Seamus was on his hands and knees, covered in dirt, his hair a mess and his nails so filthy, he'd be cleaning mulch out form under them for months. He wished he'd paid better attention in Herbology, maybe he wouldn't have had to spend so long in the garden. After the first twenty minutes of searching for the right root, he went a little mad and was actually  _digging_ in the dirt. Professor Sprout would not be happy about that. But any detention he'd get would be worth it in the end.

"Need any help?" Seamus flinched around, always on edge lately. Neville stood behind him, his hands clasped, his expression curious and wary. That was understandable, Seamus had to look a bit crazy. He was rather sure that his right eye twitched precisely every thirty seconds.

"Uh-no, 'm alright." He lied, he almost combed a hand through his tousled blond hair, but stopped abruptly when he remembered how filthy he was.

"You sure? I hangout here a lot, I'm sure I could help you find what you're lookin' for." Neville insisted. He wasn't what anyone would call  _confident_ but he'd certainly grown in the years since they first met. He sounded a bit unsure, but Seamus was technically invading on his territory. Everyone knew that Neville was the Herbology nerd-and he was proud of it, just like he should be in Seamus' opinion.

He pondered whether he should accept the helping hand. If anyone could find the root, it was Neville and it was the last thing Seamus' needed for his potion. As long as he kept it vague, he'd be fine. He pulled a crumpled up scrap of paper out of his robe pocket, handing it to Neville, "That's what I'm lookin' for. I've been searchin' for hours but I can't find anythin'."

"Oh, I know where this is." Usually, Neville would've said that with a certain glow, always excited when it came to plants and when he could be helpful. But he seemed rather glum and it didn't help Seamus' mood any.

Neville walked over to a small garden patch, pulling up a thin dark purple plant that had a matching root. "Here it is."

Seamus grabbed it from him, beaming. "Thanks, mate!"

Neville scratched the back of his neck, "No problem." He muttered, starting to walk away. But Seamus snatched his arm, pulling him back over.

"Something wrong?" He asked tenderly. He'd been so wrapped up in his own problems that he'd completely forgotten about other peoples', or that they even had any. He felt terrible. He was rather good friends with Neville and no good mate would leave him on his own. Seamus had Hermione, Dean, even Lavender. But who did Neville have? Did he have anyone? Seamus was realizing that he wasn't the only one that had crap on his plate and it was about time he helped someone else.

Neville shrugged, "I dunno, just got some stuff going on. It's not big deal, don't want to bother you."

Seamus smiled and gripped Neville's bicep reassuringly, "You are  _not_ a bother. We're friends. I'm here if you need me. So, sit your bum down and talk."

Neville obliged, plopping down right on the grass, followed by Seamus. "I just feel so confused,"

"'Bout what?"

"Well, a few things actually," He fiddled his thumbs in his lap, "I always thought I was straight, y'know? I had this thing for, uh-" His cheeks were a bright crimson, "You can't tell anyone, but I sort of fancied Ginny Weasley. But I'm not so sure anymore."

"Why's that?" It felt good to focus on someone else. It gave him a decent distraction while simultaneously comforting a good friend. Neville appeared to need him and he was more than happy to listen. But he couldn't help the odd feeling that boiled in his gut at the mention of sexuality. He felt like he was alone in the weird trench of confusion but it seemed that if he just opened his eyes, others-including Neville-were going through the same thing. But was it right for him to give advice to Neville when he was so hopelessly lost himself? When he was disgusted by the mere prospect of liking men? The thing was, he didn't care if Neville, or Dean, or anyone else was gay- _he_ just didn't want to be gay.  _His mother_ didn't want him to be gay. _  
_

"There's this, um-this guy. He's a bit of twat to be honest," A smirk was playing at Neville's lips but he was still staring at the ground. "He can be so mean and condescending to people, but when we're alone, he flirts with me like crazy. And he's so nice! He's like a whole other person. But if other people are around, he sort of acts like I don't exist. I just don't know what to do," he sighed and threw his hands into the air, "I don't even know if I'm bloody gay!"

Seamus rattled his brain for an appropriate response. He just needed to go at this like Neville fancied a girl, not some mystery bloke. "Mate, I think you're far too good for any idiot that won't acknowledge you. I think you should talk to, er, him and sort this out. Force 'em to confront what's bothering you. If they choose to keep ignorin' you, then you don't need 'em here anyway!"

Neville took a shaky breath, "You-you're right. I j-just need to stand up for myself!" He sounded sure but his voice was wavering with nervous energy.

Seamus guided him into a stand, "You can do this, just don't back down."

The brunet smiled, a crooked, anxious thing, but he nodded with sincerity and pulled Seamus into a sudden, bone-crushing hug, "Thanks."

Seamus embraced him and for the slighted moment, he forgot all the stupid shit that was muddying up his life. Because if he could help Neville, then he wasn't totally useless or messed up. "'Course."

 

* * *

 

 

Dean knew something was wrong when Seamus didn't show up for breakfast. That kid never missed a meal. _Never._ It was practically his favorite thing in the world-second only to quidditch. He'd waited for Seamus until the Great Hall was completely vacant excluding himself. He sat at the empty table, he'd been urged to move by students and staff, but he wouldn't,  _couldn't._ If Seamus wasn't there, that meant something bad had happened. He sat there for what felt like ages before he finally trudged out of the room and slumped to his next class, hoping that Seamus would be there waiting for him.

He wasn't.

No matter. Dean was sure he was fine. Or at least that's what he kept telling himself. If he gave in to the tiny voice in his mind telling him that Seamus had somehow drowned in a lake with a helping squid, he'd go completely mad. He'd probably tear the castle apart looking for the Irish lad. So, instead of panicking, he raced to the Gryffindor common room, calling Seamus' name as soon as he slipped through the portrait hole. Nothing. He wasn't there, not even in the dorm. Dean scrambled to his next class. Still no Seamus.

Okay, he was starting to panic. How could he not? His best friend had inexplicably disappeared from the Earth. That might have been a slight exaggeration, but he didn't have time to fuss over hyperboles. He skipped his next class, only taking a second to peak his head in and find that Seamus was not there. The day went on, slowly, ever so slowly. Like it was being dragged through a deep pit of molasses. He checked everywhere. The boys' bathroom, the girls', the broom closets, the library-even the forbidden section-the lake, the kitchen, everywhere. Seamus didn't show up for lunch or dinner. It was getting dark and he was still nowhere to be found.     

Dean sat at the Gryffindor table, his plate basically empty, as he pushed around a tiny tomato with his fork. He wasn't hungry. He couldn't eat when Seamus could've wandered into the forest and been eaten by some ferocious monster. All he could think about was Seamus by himself, scared-possibly hurt-and in need of help. His stomach was in knots and he pushed his plate away.

Neville nudged his elbow, "You alright, mate?" He asked. Neville was always so genuine. He actually cared about you and how you felt, it was so different from the many manufactured greetings and questions of well-being.

"I can't find Seamus anywhere." Dean said, exasperated and exhausted. He was sure he looked the part of a worried parent. He hadn't eaten lunch either and he'd barely had a breakfast, but the thought of food revolted him.

"Oh. Did you check the greenhouse? He's been hanging out there quite a bit." Neville questioned, buttering a biscuit. The greenhouse. How had Dean not thought of that? Actually, how _had_ Seamus?  They never went to the gardens. They weren't even particularly good at Herbology. Then again, Seamus had been acting so weird lately, who was to say he hadn't suddenly become obsessed with foliage.

"Thanks." Dean muttered, shooting up from his seat and darting out of the room and through the front doors of the castle. He sprinted to the first one, nothing inside except an assortment of potted plants. He checked the next, and the next, until he finally reached the last one. When he burst inside, he'd thought his efforts had been fruitless, not immediately seeing the object of his relentless search. But after glancing around the room he saw him. His heart stopped.

Seamus lay curled up in the corner. Shattered glass was on the floor around him, along with some purple-brown potion that smelled absolutely rotten. His face had a blue tint, his cheeks hollow and his eyes closed. His blond hair messed and dirty. And he was perfectly and utterly still.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this far! I made Neville's appearance the same as it was in the movies as opposed to the books, because his look in the films-brown hair instead of blond-is more commonly known. I stayed up writing this and so, I'm a bit worried about the quality because sometimes my brain goes to mush when it's tired. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed! Leave me some feedback in the comments.


	7. A Pain That Nothing Can Match

The still night crept eerily around Seamus as he trudged through the grass to the farthest greenhouse. The entire walk from his dorm to the gardens had been surreal. He was finally ready to finish his potion, but instead of excitement, he felt numb. The idea of all his inner-turmoil settling into a cool bliss didn't seem possible, but he supposedly had the solution just hours away.

He pushed the old door open, shuffling in and shedding his coat on a rickety shelf to the right. Dust and dirt kicked up from his shoes as he dragged his feet to the back, where a cauldron lay in wait, necessities strewn on the wood around it. Brewing the rest of the potion would take a few hours.

Time went on exasperatingly slow. Like the clock of the universe had been dipped in a bowl of molasses. The sun was peeking over the horizon and glinting through the panes of glass, shimmering off the bright liquid mixing in the pot. Seamus could see the rolling green hills and the edge of the forest through the window. In his opinion, little could match the serenity that followed nature around. He wasn't one for zen and meditation, but the smell of pine and the small noises animals emitted in the shrubs of the trees, provided the perfect environment for thinking. And he'd been doing a lot of that lately.

 

* * *

 

 

Dean hadn't  _really_ had a close encounter with death before. There was the time that maniac broke into Gryffindor tower, but still, he'd been closest to Ron, not Dean. Even without a long list of life threatening events to show, Dean somehow  _knew_ this was what death felt like. It wasn't peaceful and he certainly did not accept it. It was horrifying, gut wrenching. He thought he'd vomit and faint. In that very moment, it was like the world had gone from vibrant and colorful, to dull, everything tinted with grey, the universe turning black in a cloud of utter misery. _That's what death was._

No, maybe not. That wasn't what death was like. That's what it was like when you watched someone else,  _someone you love,_ die.

Dean clambered over to where Seamus lay on the ground, curled up on himself. He dropped to his knees, cutting them on the shards of glass that littered the floor. He didn't care, no amount of physical pain could match what was swimming around inside him. He grabbed Seamus by the robes, shaking him. "Shay-Seamus, wake up! What did you do?" 

Seamus' eyes fluttered but ultimately remained closed, the side of his face had blood covering it, a few cuts ran down his cheek and jaw from the glass on the floor. Dean's vision was blurry and he had trouble thinking when the only thing in his head was  _he's going to die. You've lost him._ "You idiot, you bloody idiot. Why would you do this?" 

Dean dragged him up, holding him from the waist. He was heavy, Seamus' entire weight pushing against Dean. He tried to step forward, but slipped in the potion puddled on the ground, slamming sideways and catching himself on his arm. "Dammit." He hissed, the room spinning around him.

"Here, Seamus. I brought the stuff you want. Now will you-" Blaise Zabini stopped in his tracks, the food hauled up in his arms toppled to the ground in a chorus of thuds. "What happened?" He managed to sound more irritated than concerned.

"I don't know! Just help me get Seamus to the infirmary!" Dean growled, pushing himself up, wincing as few pieces of glass plunged deeper into his skin from the pressure.

"I told him something like this would happen, the shithead." That was a sign of some change in behavior. Blaise always saw himself as better than everyone else, his nose held high as he looked down on those around him, even Malfoy. But with his distaste for others came a certain civility. He usually wouldn't call someone a childish name or use a juvenile insult, he thought it beneath him.

"You knew what he was doing?" Dean shouted, annoyed at the way his voice broke in the middle. Anger and hurt churned within him. Blaise had known what Seamus was doing but didn't tell Dean? Didn't stop him? And why had Seamus trusted  _Zabini_ over his best friend? They'd been mates for years, when one did something the other was at their side. _Where's Dean? Oh, he's with Seamus. Where's Seamus? He's with Dean._ That's how it was, but somehow, in the last few months, everything that comforted Dean and made him happy, was being harshly pulled away from him.

"Is now really the time, Thomas?" 

Dean grunted, "We have to hurry. I couldn't wake him, I think he might be dying." Saying it out loud was bizarre. It made it all real. Seamus had indeed brewed a grotesque potion, had consumed it, and could very well die from it. Facing that reality was too terrifying.

The journey from the Greenhouse to the infirmary was a blur, a horrifying, excruciating blur that nearly incapacitated Dean as he struggled not to break down in a fit of tears. He didn't understand how he'd let this happen. How Seamus had sneaked everything past him and eluded Dean.

"Seamus needs you right now." Blaise said, "Focus on that."

 

* * *

 

Dean sat on the end of one of the many beds in the infirmary, his hands twisted in his lap as he rubbed bruises into his palms. His leg was shaking with nervous energy, his nostrils flaring as he attempted to remain composed. He and Blaise had hauled Seamus into the building, yelling to get the attention of Madam Pomfrey, who hurried over and helped Seamus onto a bed. She asked what had happened and when they responded in stupor, she immediately told them to alert Dumbledore, pushed them out and closed the curtain, leaving them completely clueless, which Blaise didn't seem to mind much, but it was driving Dean mad.

Blaise left without a word, hopefully to get Dumbledore because Dean wasn't leaving that infirmary even if a squad of Durmstrang students came marching in, batons at the ready to kick his arse. He was staying with Seamus, he needed to. He felt like it was all his fault, like he'd neglected his best mate. The whole spiral with Seamus had started after he'd asked him to the ball and that tumbleweed just kept rolling down a hill made solely of shit.

Dumbledore strode into the room, robes billowing behind him, his beard swept to the side. He went straight to Seamus' bed and slipped inside the curtain. Nothing; he said nothing to Dean. It was like he was invisible. All he wanted was one simple sentence, "He's all right." but there was only silence and hushed whispers.

It wasn't long before Mcgonagall joined the growing group behind the white linen. She had passed Dean just like Dumbledore. He fidgeted in discomfort before falling onto his back, covering his face with his elbow, his lip trembling as the water from his eyes moistened his forearm. If Seamus died, Dean didn't know what he'd do. The intense ache inside him would only grow and he doubted he'd ever get over it. If Seamus died, so did Dean, even if he was breathing and blinking, he was gone. They were a package deal, they had been since their first year and nothing had changed in that matter.

"Mr. Thomas," Mcgonagall's voice stirred Dean, the words were sharp, like he'd done something wrong, but they had a hint of compassion behind them. Dean didn't know if that was good or bad.

He jolted upright, his whole body quaking, "Is he all right?"

Professor Mcgongall sighed and brushed a stray strand of grey hair out of her face, taking a seat next to Dean. "You're hurt." She noted curtly.

"'S nothing." He shrugged away from her touch, he sounded empty, even to his own ears. "Just tell me how he is. And tell me the truth, I've been lied to enough lately."

"It'll do you no good to let your injuries go neglected." She dodged, starting to collect items from a cupboard, piling them on the bedside table.

"If you can tend to me, shouldn't you be helping Madam Pomfrey?"

She reclaimed her seat and gently tugged the sleeve of Dean's robe down. "Madam Pomfrey is perfectly capable. There's nothing I can do for her but get in the way."

He winced as she used her wand to collect the shards of glass embedded in his skin. She thrust a bottle into his other hand, "Drink this. It'll help with the pain."

"I doubt that." He muttered, but he downed it in one gulp, coughing once the vial was empty. It worked almost immediately, alleviating the physical pain shooting from his arm. Didn't matter, though. He still felt like he was slowly being torn apart, bit-by-bit. 

"Professor, you're assistance." Madam Pomfrey called, her head peeking out from behind the curtain.

"Rub this on your arm and don't scratch the cuts." She told him, standing up and giving his shoulder a quick squeeze before hurrying to Seamus' bed.

He opened the canister and rubbed the yellow cream sullenly over his left arm, taking comfort in the cold tingle and relief from the concoction. He could feel them already starting to close up, heal in an entirety that was never possible in the muggle world. He wondered if Seamus and him were both muggles and met in a regular school, if they still would've been best friends. He liked to think they would've.

Dumbledore emerged with Madam Pomfrey and Professor Mcgonagall on his heels. Their features were all eerily blank, leaving Dean to only assume the worst. They stopped at the toe of his bed, Dumbledore's hands folded in front of him, his thumbs fiddling. Rosy tint flowed over his cheeks and a smile tugged on his lips. "He will be okay."

A flood of relief washed over Dean in crushing weight. It was like an invisible fist had wrapped around his body and squeezed with all its might before abruptly letting go. Air filled his lungs, his eyes stung, and his heart thudded. Seamus was alive and Dean was too. "When can I see him?" Dean asked, jumping to his feet.

Dumbledore chuckled, "Soon. He's resting now, and won't wake till morning. I'll let Madam Pomfrey fill you in on the details."

She stepped forward, clipboard in hand, eyes scanning the parchment, "With great effort, we managed to clear his body of the toxins. As far as we can tell, we stopped the potion before it corrupted any vitals. I'm not entirely sure what he consumed, but it was clearly dark magic and thus prohibited. Am I right to assume that you had no inclination that he was dabbling in such things?"

Seamus? Dark magic? "N-no, I had no idea."

She scratched something off the paper with her quill, "Very well. If you and Mr. Zabini hadn't brought him in, the potion may have spread to his brain and heart, resulting in death or something just as un-pleasurable. You did well today." She gave him the faintest of smiles, "I highly suggest you let him get some rest before attempting to converse with him, he will be physically exhausted, if not mentally so as well, he needs rest."

"Of course." Dean nodded, hopping on the balls of his feet, itching to go see Seamus.

"I would think that if Mr. Finnigan shares any important information with you that you will come forward for his own protection." Professor Mcgonagall said, her eyebrow crooked as she peered at the boy.

"Understood."

"Good," She said, pulling Dumbledore toward the door, "We'll leave you with him now."

"Wait, I can stay tonight? I don't have to go back to the dorms?" He questioned with hope and skepticism.

"I'm afraid I didn't quite catch that. I'm so terribly tired that I wouldn't even notice if a student wasn't in his bunk. Goodnight, Mr. Thomas." He could practically hear the smirk in her voice. Before he could say anything, even a thank you, she was out the door. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait for this chapter, I ended up changing my plans for the story halfway through it and had to rewrite it and make sure everything fit. Thank you for your patience and your lovely comments. I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I'll try to get the next one out faster. Thanks for reading. Leave me some feedback in the comments.


	8. Two of the Same

The hall was quiet in the late hours of the morning. Hermione, Harry, and Ron had dropped in after breakfast, Neville shyly in tow. They expressed their worries, gave Dean something to eat, and wished him and Seamus well before leaving, Harry still jumpy as ever. Neville stayed a beat longer, his face contorted with concern and what seemed to be emotional constipation. He appeared to desperately want to say something but ultimately only sighed and shuffled out of the hall.

Dean sat in a chair by Seamus' bed, his arms folded beneath his head as his fingers tapped out a beat on the white sheets. Madam Pomfrey had come round a few times, checking in on Seamus and insisting that Dean go get some proper rest and a good bite to eat, but he adamantly refused every time, instead staying firmly in place by his unconscious friend.

It was nearly noon by the time Seamus finally stirred awake, his face still pale and gaunt, but much more lively than the previous night. He turned his head to look at Dean, a smile bloomed across his face before it fell into a deep frown. "Where am I?" He inquired, his voice dry.

"You're in the infirmary. I found you last night, barely breathing." Dean answered, sitting up straight and grinning at the sight of Seamus alive and-somewhat-well. "I can't believe I almost lost you."

"Wait, y-you found me? What did they do to me?" A hint of panic was simmering at the edge of Seamus' voice, as his eyes scanned the room without moving his head.

"What did who do, Seamus?" Dean asked, his tone dangerously close to anger. He hadn't thought someone had hurt Seamus. He thought it was some fluke accident or...He didn't even know. But he'd never thought anyone was out to get him. Who would hurt Seamus? Malfoy? Crabbe? Goyle? "Did someone do that to you?"

"No, no," Seamus shook his head, visibly wincing at the harsh action, "Madam Pomfrey and the others, what did they do?"

"Oh, uh," Dean deflated, relieved and confused. "Madam Pomfrey said she cleared your body of the toxins, was close to losing you, we were. What were you doing out there at any rate?"

"Shit, shit, shit." Seamus muttered, letting his head fall back into the pillow, his eyes closed. "It was working. I could feel it."

"What was working?" Dean asked, his voice small in the large expanse of room.

"Nothing, I just made this-Nevermind." Seamus huffed, his hand sliding feebly over his exhausted face, "You didn't tell 'em where you found me, did you?"

"Um, no. They didn't ask. Why?"

"Doesn't matter. Just make sure you don't say anythin'."

"Yeah, sure." Dean drawled, eyeing Seamus skeptically. Dean was ecstatic that Seamus was alive, conscious, talking to him. But it was very apparent that the lies and avoidance were not over. 

 

* * *

"You fucking knew!" Dean growled, pinning Blaise against the stone wall of the crowded Hogwarts' hallway. "You knew all this time! You let him think that there was something wrong with him, you let him hurt himself! All for what? Your life get too boring? Thought you'd spice it up by watching _my best friend_ torture himself? He almost died, you ignorant piece of-"

"You're making a scene, Thomas." Blaise interrupted, unaffected by the fists balled in the front of his robes. "Perhaps we should take this somewhere more secluded."

"What? Afraid everyone will know that you're an even bigger asshole than we thought? Afraid people will know you helped a confused and _scared_ kid toward killing himself?"

"You don't know what you're talking about. I suggest you calm down before the professors get here."

"Calm down." Dean repeated, "He's my best friend. I almost lost my best friend!" His fist slammed into the wall by Zabini's head.

The crowd stayed a fair distance from the commotion, the onlookers faces slack from shock or giddy from something to gossip about between tournament events. Dean didn't care. He could be suspended or expelled, but he couldn't muster the will to give a single fuck. When he saw Blaise sauntering down the hall like he hadn't almost killed someone, no trace of remorse on his face, Dean couldn't help the untamed rage that boiled to the brim in his gut. He didn't have time to think or rationalize or plan, his emotions took over and he was left at the will of his own anger.

"Careful, Thomas." Blaise said, a little more on edge with the possibility of physical assault lingering in the air. "If you get expelled, who'll watch over Seamus?"

Dean's eyes narrowed, "Is that a threat?"

Blaise rolled his eyes, "No, you just don't know everything-"

"I know plenty more than you think! I saw the book, Blaise. I know what Seamus was doing out there," realization dawned on the wizard as he started shaking with an amount of fury he didn't think was possible, "Is that why you let him do it? Because of-Because you don't like who he is? Because you don't agree with the way he was born? You almost let him die because," he lowered his voice so only Blaise could hear him, "he's gay?"

Blaise actually looked agitated, worried, nervous even. "If that was the reason, I would have taken the potion too."

Dean's face dropped in confusion, "What?"

"Mr. Thomas, Mr. Zabini! Off each other this instant." Professor Mcgonagall strode over to them, her face brisk as she separated the boys, "What in Heaven's name is going on here?"

"Nothing." Blaise muttered, straightening his robes. Dean was still staring at him, sorting out the last few lines of their argument. To be completely honest, Dean hadn't ever thought about Blaise fancying anyone. It was like the bloke wasn't actually human, just a robot sent from the government to gather information on magic and act superior to everyone else. The idea of him having intimate, _romantic_ interactions with someone seemed odd.

"Nothing? Mr. Zabini, I must say this is far more than nothing." Professor Mcgonagall turned her stern gaze on Dean, the spectacles resting precariously on the edge of her nose only added to her vehement glare, "And what do you have to say about this situation?"

"I'm sorry, professor." Was the only coherent sentence Dean could pick out of his brain. Blaise scoffed from behind Mcgonagall, his face back to its usual resignation and subtle disdain for his surroundings.

"Both of you, to my office." She turned swiftly and didn't look back even once on the walk to her quarters, knowing very well that only a complete fool would disobey her. Dean and Blaise followed in utter silence, not so much as a glance at the other. All the possible cruel punishments started forming in Dean's mind, pushing at the front and demanding attention. He felt like a twat. It was stupid of him to act so impulsively, what  _would_ he do if he was expelled? He couldn't just leave Seamus by himself, not when he was in such a vulnerable state.

They arrived at the entrance to her office, where she instructed Blaise to sit outside and wait while she  _talked_ with Dean. The last thing he wanted was to be stuck in a room alone with professor Mcgonagall, but for all the dumb things he'd done that day, refusing the head of his house was not one of them. He quickly sat in one of the chairs by her desk, his back rigidly straight and his palms sweating an obscene amount as they rubbed together in anxious anticipation.

He'd expected a fair amount of yelling and cold stares, a guilt trip and a punishment that would leave an ache in his stomach for months to come, but he hadn't expected the soft gleam in her eyes that was surprisingly comforting when his insides were writhing around like churned butter. "I know things have been rather rough for you lately, Mr. Thomas. With all that's happened with Seamus." She sighed heavily, adjusting her glasses as she glanced at the wall, "However, I can not excuse your behavior, even with sturdy reasoning behind it. I can not take assaulting another student lightly."

Dean begrudgingly withheld his counter argument. He hadn't  _actually_ hurt Blaise but that seemed to matter little to Mcgonagall.

"Though I don't often seem it, Mr. Thomas, I am a compassionate person. I feel for what you're going through and therefor will not be suspending you. But I will need to ask you what exactly took place the night Mr. Finnigan was found."

"I don't know if-"

Professor Mcgonagall held up a hand to silence him, "I know this is a difficult incident for you to recall, but there is clearly more going on than meets the eye and I must know about it."

"Why not just ask Seamus?"

"I'm afraid he may not give a reliable answer considering his current health." She folded her hands over the desk, "Now, please, we do have a student waiting, if you'd like to come back tomorrow-"

"No," Dean didn't want to wait any longer, it'd only increase his nerves. He wanted this whole mess out of the way sooner rather than later. "I'd been searching the castle all day. It was after dinner that I remembered the gardens, I looked out there for awhile and that's when I found him. He, um, he was in the last greenhouse, passed out in the corner. He was pale, I thought he was dead. There was this potion spilled over the ground, it was thick and a weird purple-brown color. I ran over to him and started screaming. Blaise must've been walking nearby, because he heard me and came to help." He cleared his rapidly constricting throat, "You know the rest."

"And why would this prompt you to attack Mr. Zabini?"

"I don't know. I guess I just felt like we could've done more. Gotten him to the hospital wing faster. I just needed someone to blame."

"Very well, you may go."

* * *

 

Dean stood in front of the fire in the common room, his bag clutched tightly to his side as he stared into the dancing flames. He worked fast after his impromptu conversation with professor Mcgonagall. He'd avoided certain names and details in his story but the overall was the same. He'd let his best friend almost die, practically sitting by as it happened. He couldn't take the chance of it happening again. He reached into his messenger bag and pulled out the old book, practically falling apart from age. What if Seamus decided to try again? What if Dean wasn't there to save him? There were too many  _what ifs_ with this thing around. Dean knew that his actions could enhance the rift growing between Seamus and him, but he'd rather have Seamus alive and mad at him, than dead.

And with an air of finality, he threw the book into the flames. _  
_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter's been a long time coming and I'm really sorry for the wait, as I end up saying quite a lot. There aren't many chapters left and I do know how I want this story to end. I want to thank everyone that commented on the previous chapters and everyone who stuck with this even through all the dry spells. I promise that I have no plans of abandoning this story, I fully intend to write it all the way through, I just get stumped a lot which causes the long breaks between chapters. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter.  
> Leave me some feedback in the comments.


	9. Don't Ever Come Near Me Again

Dean didn't like being forcibly left to his own thoughts. Madam Pomfrey had insisted that he  _take care of himself_ and stay away from the infirmary, if not just for a day. Dean had no choice but to abide to her persistent protests. Dean suspected that the nurse's insistence may have stemmed from the fight he'd gotten himself into that same day, no doubt word had traveled fast through the old castle. If Seamus didn't know already, he would soon and Dean doubted that the boy would be all too thrilled with the incident, aside from perhaps a little flattery at the prospect of someone getting so worked up over him, he'd probably be a bit disgruntled that Dean made a scene and "attacked" someone who seemed like an ally to him.

Dean sat in the Gryffindor common room, an old book that he'd been intending to read for quite some time was propped on his leg, but remained unopened. He stared aimlessly at the plain wall, his head swimming with thoughts that he wasn't entirely sure were coherent. Everything felt so jumbled, he had a whole cocktail of emotions twisting inside him and he hadn't the slightest clue what to do about it. Confusion was evidently very prominent in his inner-workings. He could barely separate one thought from another, as his leg bounced uneasily, almost dropping his book.

Without warning, Dean stood up, ignoring the thump of bound parchment as it collided with the ground. He didn't know where he was going, but he couldn't just sit there, stewing in his own misery. He had to get his blood flowing, move around and possibly get some energy. He'd expended most of his mental strength and his physical wasn't awfully far behind, with all that'd happened, he was surprised he hadn't simply collapsed after his conversation with professor McGonagall. He just needed to keep active, stave off some of the anxiety that seemed to constantly burden him these days.

He climbed through the portrait hole, his chest heaving as he glided down the stairs and through random halls. All the while, he was thinking nonstop, simultaneously, he couldn't pin a single word. The halls were mostly empty, people had migrated to their dorms or more secluded areas. His ears focused on the clacking of his shoes and his huffs of breath that were rigid and forced. He couldn't tell if he was angry, or scared, or nervous, or all of them at once. The quiet only heightened his nerves and egged on ridiculous and terrifying outcomes for the future.

Long fingers wrapped around Dean's shoulder, halting him in his tracks. Blaise Zabini stood before him, his slanted eyes scanned the corridor for other students before stopping on Dean's face. Zabini's jaw was set tight, his expression carefully neutral as his eyes tried to untangle the mess that was Dean. "You aren't going to tell anyone, are you?" He asked, his voice wasn't hostile but there was a slight edge to it.

"Tell them what?" Dean shrugged, unable to restrain his irritation from distorting his features.

Blaise rolled his eyes dramatically, something like a groan mixed with a scoff emitting from his curled lip, "You know what, Thomas."

"That you fancy blokes?" He said bluntly.

Zabini's eyes darted to either side of the hall, making sure no one overheard. He hesitated, his jaw shifting as he rigidly pulled the word from his mouth, "Yes."

It was Dean's turn to roll his eyes, his arms folding over his chest, "I'm not going to tell anyone. Not everyone needs a reason to be a decent human."

Blaise seemed to flinch at that. Had Dean blinked he would have missed it, the small shred of guilt that displayed itself. It was enough to silence the Gryffindor from continuing. "Good."

* * *

Blaise wasn't delusional, he knew things weren't going well, but he couldn't change that. He tried to shake off the topic whenever it came up but there was only so much discourse you could throw into an encounter before it was a heap of confusion and a sign in neon lights reading, _conspicuous!_ He never thought he'd have something so special to him, and the fragility of it all was intimidating. He prided himself on his tactics, his wit, and ability to lead a structured and collected life, but it was falling apart at the seams all because of _one person_ and that in and of itself was quite absurd and embarrassing in his opinion.

Blaise couldn't lose the only thing in his life that felt _right,_ but it was rapidly slipping through his fingers and it felt like all he could do was watch in frozen horror as the best thing to happen to him drifted farther away from his reach. He pretended these feelings weren't twisting inside him as he stood in silence while Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson rambled on to each other about the foul-workings of the school. Every once in a while he'd chime in, adding his usual dry sense of humor and above-it-all attitude.

Malfoy and Parkinson were just starting on the poor choice of staff when Neville came down the hall, headed straight for the trio. He looked a mess of nerves, shaking from head-to-toe, his breathing heavy and his eyes just a bit off, but his face was set in determination, his hands clenched at his side. He stopped by Parkinson's side, not looking anywhere but Blaise. Parkinson sneered and moved closer to Malfoy, her face contorted in disgust, like Neville was doused in sewage.

"What do _you_ want, Longbottom?" Malfoy drawled, eyebrow quirked and smirk intact.

"I'm not here t-to talk to you, Draco." Neville stuttered, but his voice was all around more confident than usual.

Malfoy and Parkinson chuckled wryly, "Oh really? Then why are you here? Lost your toad again, have you?"

Neville completely ignored him, taking a calming breath before speaking again, "Blaise, can I talk to you?" He glanced at the other Slytherins, "Privately."

Blaise felt like he was stuck between a rock and a hard place, his insides writhing and his throat constricting as two side of his brain clashed. In an instant, he was being forced to choose between his family's ideals and his own desires. There was no preparation or planning, no time to build up mental walls or create a perfect emotionless mask. 

He stayed silent for so long that Malfoy actually hit him on the arm, clearly expecting a biting comeback. "Why would I talk to you, Longbottom?"

Neville visibly flinched, recoiling immediately. His chest heaved as his eyes reddened and brimmed with tears. He took a step back, evidently steeling himself from the rejection. He looked directly into Blaise's eyes, the taller boy's cold exterior crumbling beneath the scrutiny. "Fuck you."

"Didn't realize you had a spine, Longbottom, really doesn't suit you!" Malfoy yelled after Neville's retreating form.

"I'm off to the library." Blaise said quickly, after Neville was gone. Malfoy shrugged as he and Parkinson continued their conversation. Blaise walked briskly down the hall, breaking into a run once he rounded the corner. He didn't know what he was going to say or do, he couldn't just apologize, _again,_ but what else was there? The situation was painstakingly delicate, a breath of the wrong word could cause the entire thing to implode, caving in on itself and burying Blaise beneath the rubble.

He finally reached Neville, heart racing a mile a minute, the same speed as his thoughts. Neville swatted his hand away when he tried to grab his shoulder, scowling at the Slytherin with more hurt than he'd ever seen on someone.

"I can't keep doing this." Neville said firmly, "I don't even know what this is!"

"Neville, listen, I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"It doesn't matter what you meant, Blaise. Every time it's the same thing and I can't stand it anymore. I-" He paused, rubbing a weary hand over his face, "I really like you."

"I like you, too!" Blaise hastily said, scrambling closer to Neville. He'd never felt worse, his carefully crafted façade was wilting away, leaving him raw and desperate.

"It doesn't bloody seem like it! You treat me like crap, you look down on me, you play along when someone's ridiculing me."

"N-not when we're alone." Blaise added shakily.

"No, not when we're alone." Neville said quietly, "But we're not always alone."

"I said I was sorry, what else do you want?"

"I want you to stop being a jerk!" Neville yelled, tears trailing down his cheeks. He shoved Blaise, there wasn't much power behind it but he still stumbled a step back. "I want you to treat me like a human. I want you to stop changing when your friends are around." He paused, lip trembling. "I want you, the real you."

"You have the real me." Blaise said gently, moving forward and placing his hands on Neville's biceps.

"When do I have the real you? When we're alone? When your friends aren't around to laugh? When people can't see you hanging around someone _like me_."

"Neville, you know I don't actually think like tha-"

"I just," Neville sniffled, eyes now puffy and his cheeks tear stained. "I can't do this anymore. It's tearing me apart. And I know it's doing the same to you. It's better for both of us if we just stop."

"No," Blaise said, voice broken and hurt like it'd never been before. Neville moved past him, is own figure trembling. "Please, Neville-"

But his pleas went unheard as Neville disappeared behind the door.

* * *

Dean didn't know exactly when Seamus was being let out of the infirmary, all he knew was that today was the day. Madam Pomfrey still wouldn't allow him to visit, saying that it'd only be a bit longer before they could chat. Dean was on edge about his next interaction with Seamus and the big question mark behind his release time really wasn't helping. He wanted nothing more than to talk to his best friend again, but after burning the book and telling professor McGonagall about the greenhouse, he didn't think the conversation would be nearly as polite as it played out in his head.

"It's already the evening." Dean muttered as he paced the length of the Gryffindor boys' bedroom. "He should be out soon."

"You do realize you're saying this all out loud, right?" Ron asked from his bunk, a copy of Seeker Weekly sprawled on his legs.

"Yeah, sorry." Dean said, abruptly stopping and sitting on his bed, only to immediately jump back up and begin pacing again.

"Mate, maybe you should calm down a bit, you're gettin' a little antsy." Ron suggested.

Unfortunately, Dean didn't get the chance to respond or even ponder the impossible idea. Seamus rushed into the room, eyes full of fury and anger apparent on his face. He marched right up to Dean, staring up at the much taller boy. Even with the quite large difference in stature, Seamus was somehow intimidating and felt a lot bigger than Dean.

"I'll be off then." Ron hastily scrambled from his bed, exiting the room and closing the door behind him, leaving the two boys alone.

"You told professor McGonagall about the greenhouse?" Seamus hissed.

Dean wasn't sure if it was a rhetorical question or not but he answered nonetheless, "Yeah, she asked me about it. What was I supposed to do?"

"Lie!" Seamus threw his hands in the air as if it was as plain as day. Dean wasn't exactly what one would call a _class A citizen_ but he didn't fancy the idea of lying and it perturbed him that his best friend seemed to have no problem with it, especially in a matter as dire as the present one. "Do you even know what you've done?"

"I think you're making a mountain out of a molehill here. The most they probably did was clean up the mess." Dean defended.

"They took samples of the potion, Dean! They found out what I was brewing!"

It took a minute for the implications to dawn on the brunet, but his face fell when they finally did. He'd outed Seamus to at least professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey. In the chaos of a closeted person's mind, the worst thing that could happen was being unwillingly outed, made to feel like a freak as the world crashed around you. Dean never really understood the pressure of it all, he'd grown up in a very accepting environment. When he was twelve he expressed his confusion to his mother, who comforted him and supplied an abundance of support. Sometimes Dean forgot that most people didn't have that.

"Shay, I had no idea, I'm so sor-"

"I trusted you! I asked you not to say anything!" Unwelcome tears were springing to Seamus' eyes, his pale face red from anger. "I can't believe you betrayed me, you were the last person I expected to do that."

"It was an accident, really. I didn't know they'd find out you're-"

"Don't." Seamus commanded, his voice quiet with rage. Before he knew what he was doing, Dean was grabbing Seamus by the arm, smashing their lips together clumsily. It was a last ditch attempt to help his friend, and it felt right. He didn't think about it or plan it, it was impulsive and he was just praying that it'd pay off. For a precious moment, Seamus embraced it, gently and hesitantly kissing back, but as suddenly as it'd happened, it was over. Seamus pulled away, his breathing heavy and his entire body shaking. "Don't ever come near me again."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What?! I actually got a chapter out in a somewhat decent span of time?!  
> I hope you enjoyed this angst riddled chapter. Honestly, this entire fic has just been one giant bowl of angst cereal and I hope you all are enjoying reading it as much as I am writing it. I'm going to warn you now that the next chapter is probably going to be the last one, which saddens me, but it must end sometime.  
> Thanks to all the lovelies who encouraged me to get this chapter out!  
> Anyway, leave me some feedback in the comments.
> 
> P.S. There are probably some mistakes and the like in this chapter, but I'm awfully tired and haven't gone through to fix them, my apologies for that.


	10. You Won't Be Alone

Lavender sat on the windowsill, her arms folded as she attempted to reason with Parvati. She really didn't want to get into another argument, but it seemed one was just on the horizon. Lavender simply couldn't just sit by anymore, and that wasn't to the liking of Parvati, who was more than content to hide in the shadows of everyone else's drama.

"Parvati, would you at least listen to me?" Lavender groaned but the girl stubbornly kept her gaze out the window. "Patty, you can't just ignore me. It won't resolve anything."

Parvati's gaze slid sideways, her eyes narrowed as she stared at the blonde trying to talk to her. "Just because you suddenly have something to say to me, doesn't mean I have to listen."

"I apologized, many times. why can't you just let it go?" Lavender kept her voice hushed, though the hall was empty she feared her words would carry down the corridor and into unwanted ears.

"Let it go?" Scoffed Parvati, now giving her full attention to Lavender, even turning in her seat to face her. "You ignored me, glared at me every chance you got and made me go to the ball with Harry Potter,  _he didn't even dance with me._ "

"I did not make you go with him. It's not my fault you'd rather go with the chosen one instead of _me._ " Lavender hissed, leaning forward to contain the conversation.

"I didn't want to go at all!"

"That's right, you wanted to just sit in, pretend we were sick and couldn't attend." She sneered, " _I_ wanted to go, but you didn't care. You were too scared! I've tried and I've tried, Parvati, but I can't let you do this anymore."

"So, what're you gonna do? Force me out of the closet? Scar me for life?"

"No! But I'm not going to let you drag me down with you." Lavender sighed heavily, combing a hand through her hair in frustration. "I like you, Parvati, and you know that. But all you do is string me along, make me hide who I am. You make me feel amazing, I look forward to every second I get to spend with you, but you're tearing me apart. With all the happiness comes feeling like a freak, like I should be ashamed of who I am-"

"I'm not saying you should be ashamed, I'm just not ready to come out."

"But  _I am._ "

"What're you saying? Is this your way of breaking up with me? If you want out, you don't have to come up with some elaborate reason, just leave."

"I don't  _want_ to break up with you. You're not giving me any leeway, what choice do I have?"

"Stay with me!" Parvati urged, her eyes red and wet. "It won't be perfect, but it'll work because we'll be together."

"We're only fourteen. That means at least three more years of school, of lying to our classmates, our friends. And then what after that? Do we get jobs? Live together under the guise of roommates? Secretly get married and never tell our families?"

"Why do you have to bring all that into it? We're still young, we don't have to worry about weddings and moving in."

"I have to think about the future, because you refuse to. I want to be happy, Parvati."

"You're not happy with me?"

"Not like this."

Silence fell between the two, Parvati once again pointedly staring out the window while Lavender fiddled her hands in her lap, not wanting to leave it like this. Footsteps echoed down the hall and Lavender quickly wiped the tears from her eyes, trying her best to hide the utter pit of despair forming in her stomach. Dean Thomas came straight toward them, a disturbingly chipper smile on his face for someone whose best friend had almost died.

"Am I interrupting something?" He asked, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Lavender glanced at Parvati, but the girl paid her no mind. "No, I guess not." 

"Can I talk to you alone?"

A small grunt was heard from Parvati but Lavender nodded, leading Dean down the hall and around the corner. "What is it?" She asked, turning on her heels to face the taller boy.

"You've heard about Seamus?"

Of course this was about Seamus, that was all dean ever freaking talked about these days. Looking back on it, that's all he talked about  _ever._ But Lavender had heard and she had sympathized with the boy. She strongly suspected that Parvati, given a small change in her past, could easily have been just like Seamus.

Word had traveled fast after the Irishman was released from the hospital wing. Apparently some Ravenclaw had overheard him arguing with Madam Pomfrey and professor McGonagall and the girl was more than happy to share this new found information.

"Yes," she said tautly, "now what do you want?" 

"I need your help. I don't mean to be presumptuous or anything but I've heard word that you- you kind of fancy Parvati-" Lavender snorted, rolling her eyes. "So, that's not true?"

"What does it matter?" She shifted her weight between her feet, feeling very uncomfortable at the moment. She knew that being evasive was practically like saying yes, but it somehow seemed more appropriate if she didn't admit her feelings to someone that wasn't Parvati.

Dean eyed her for a moment, no doubt gauging how open she'd be to the idea. "Well, Seamus is having a hard time coming to terms with...all that and I've come up with a brilliant plan to help him."

"You seem awfully optimistic about this whole thing."

"Yeah, I know. I just really think this could help him, y'know?"

"And what part do I play in all this?"

"I think things really started going down hill for him the night of the Yule Ball." Lavender looked away awkwardly, the events of the evening replaying in her head. She had been kind of pushy with him, hadn't she? "So I want to recreate it."

"You want to recreate one of his worst memories? How exactly is that helpful?"

"I want to make the ball, but instead of the champions and all that, it'd be, well, queer people and couples."

Lavender raised an eyebrow at him, biting down on her smirk. He clearly was implying that she didn't fall directly into the  _hetero_ box.

Dean backtracked, stuttering a bit, "I didn't mean any offense, I just-"

"Being queer isn't an insult, Thomas." 

He shuffled his feet, "Right, right, I know that."

Lavender chuckled, shaking her head. "Alright, I'll go to your stupid ball thing. When is it?"

Dean beamed, handing her a piece of parchment, "All the details are on there."

* * *

 Blaise had been keeping his head low for the past few days. His emotions had been erratic, unpredictable, he couldn't be seen as such a mess. And so he separated himself from the other Slytherin as much as would not be suspicious. His argument with Neville had left him in fumbling pieces, watching as he fell apart, struggling to put himself back together. There were times when he wished he'd ran after Neville, thrown caution to the wind and damned his family, declaring his feelings in a dramatic affair that would ensnare the affection of the Gryffindor. Other times he wished he'd never met the boy, or at least never paid him mind.

He could easily say that he was the happiest when he was with Neville, but the heartache and inner-turmoil that came when it all was torn away was enough to drive any man mad. For a brief moment, he relished the idea of finding a potion or spell that could take away all the unpleasant emotions brewing inside him, but the memory of what happened to Seamus was enough to smother the small flame of hope that had flickered to life at the prospect. 

The chair beside him was yanked from its spot, a lean figure filling the empty space and scraping the wood against the floor as they pulled closer to the table. "Hello, Blaise."

"Thomas." The single word was said rigidly, Blaise unwilling to talk to the boy who could easily throw him off his kilter. He himself could not certainly say what reaction he would concoct, but he felt his classmate may have been even more unstable.

"I need your help." Thomas said plainly, no hint of malice or indignation in his voice. Yet, at least.

"And why would I help you?" Blaise asked, staring at the clear surface of the table. He'd just been sitting there for at least an hour, not reading or studying. He hated to call it wallowing but it most definitely was.

Thomas scoffed, "Do I really need to answer that?"

"I think you assaulting me was retribution enough for my acts."

"I never hurt you." He mumbled, reminding Blaise of an upset toddler. "I think it can be said that you almost killing my best friend outweighs my so called  _assault_."

"I didn't attempt to murder the boy, everything he did was of his own volition. I refuse to be held responsible for another human's conscious, uninhibited actions."

"In the muggle justice system, that would be considered assisting suicide, or something or the other."

"Your specifics and confidence astound me. And he wasn't trying to commit suicide."

"It doesn't matter, I believe a muggle court of law would still find you, at the least, partially responsible."

"And tell me, Thomas, when did I ever give you the impression that I care about the goings-on of muggles?"

Thomas sighed and slapped a piece of paper down on the table. "Just take that and consider my request."

"No." Blaise defied, remaining still in his seat.

Thomas groaned, "Stop being a stubborn twat and just look over the bloody paper." And with that, he forcefully pushed his chair from the table before swiftly leaving the library.

* * *

Dean had everything ready, the decorations were up, the "invitations" were out, he'd gotten special permission from professor McGonagall, and all that was left to do was actually convince Seamus to go. Dean doubted that the boy would even consider attending if he knew that it was for queer people, so that was a certain truth that would have to be avoided until the event. With all that'd been happening, Dean was rather worried that Seamus wouldn't listen at all. The boy had isolated himself even more after the whole _being outed_ thing.

Instead of finding Seamus in front of the fire, where he usually studied, he was found on his bed, the partition drawn. Dean pulled the curtain back and practically forced Seamus to move over so he could sit next to him.

"What do you want, Dean?" Seamus asked, he didn't sound angry, more exhausted. His boiling rage had simmered down since their argument but Dean thought this complete shutdown was a lot scarier than Seamus being mad.

"To talk." Dean kept all his extremities strictly to himself, careful not to physically touch his friend.

"About what?" Seamus wouldn't even look at Dean, he kept his eyes firmly on the book resting in his lap.

"Us. You. Anything."

Seamus sighed heavily, "I don't really feel like talkin' right now."

"I know but I think we need to."

"We don't  _need_ to talk, Dean. No one does. In fact, I think the world would be a lot better if everyone would keep their damned mouths shut."

"Fine, no talking. Will you just meet me somewhere tonight?"

"I don't know, I'm really busy, I don't thi-"

"Just," Dean interrupted, "think about it. I'm going to be in the Charms classroom at around nine, if you could just drop in. I really think it'll do you some good."

"I don't want to _go_ anywhere-"

"Please, Shay."

"If I say yes will you leave me alone?" Seamus snapped, abruptly closing the book and finally having some venom in his voice, some emotion.

"Yes." Dean ignored the way the words stung and slid his way out of bed, the partition quickly closing behind him.

* * *

 

Seamus fiddled with the idea of actually going to the Charms room and seeing what the hell it was Dean was on about, but in the end, when he left through the portrait hole, he found himself walking in an entirely different direction. He didn't think to stop himself, he let his feet carry him to wherever it was that they wanted to go. There was a part of him that ached to go see Dean, to act like nothing had happened and just be _normal_ friends. But there was also part of him that wanted to hold Dean's hand, wanted to hangout with him all the time, to study together and go on stupid dates. And that's why Seamus couldn't talk to Dean anymore, or even completely ignore him. He had to treat him like he didn't care, because then maybe he'd convince himself he didn't.

* * *

It was twenty minutes past nine and Seamus still hadn't shown up. Despite the hostility the boy had shown when Dean had first suggested they meet there, he rather believe Seamus would come, however sulky he was about it. But the minutes were ticking by and the door remained fixedly closed. Dean tried not to get antsy, even as his "guests" were getting more and more disgruntled.

"Is he even coming?" Blaise hissed, his annoyance very apparent. Perhaps he thought he had better things to do and Dean was starting to think he should go do them. The Slyhterin calmed when Neville squeezed his hand, silently willing the taller boy to shut up.

"We must be patient, who knows the number of things that could've gotten in his way. It is a full moon after all." Luna said, taking a sip of punch as she wiggled her toes. How she could stand to go barefoot when it was so cold, Dean would never know.

Lavender groaned audibly, "Don't start on all that nonsense, the full moon didn't do anything to Seamus." 

"It is those who are caught unawares that suffer the most." Luna countered calmly, seemingly unperturbed by the others' animosity.

" _Oh for Merlin's sake-"_ Parvati started but Dean swiftly cut her off.

"I'm going to go look for Seamus. I assume that you can all behave yourselves while I'm gone." He gave them a stern stare before Blaise practically shooed him out the door.

First Dean checked the common room and when he came up empty handed, he looked in the bathroom, but to no avail. He wasn't stupid, he wasn't going to go searching every crevice of the castle, he'd done that one too many times. He'd learned from his past mistakes and concluded that there was only one other place Seamus would be. The greenhouse.

He wasn't exactly thrilled to have to go back to that horrid place, especially after what he'd found last time he went searching for his best mate. But he persevered, not surprised when he pushed the glass door open to find Seamus standing by the back shelf, staring down at the purple stained wood from where the potion had spilled.

"What're you doing?" Dean asked softly, "You shouldn't be out here."

Seamus shrugged, his back still turned on Dean. "I dunno, just thought I'd get away."

"Away from what?"

Seamus simply shrugged again, his hand now gently gliding over the splintered wood.

"You can't keep doing this, Shay."

"Doing what?" His voice was monotone, void of any emotion.

"You know what." Dean said, "You keep lying and avoiding me. And now you're pretending like I'm dirt under your boots. I try and I try to help you but all you do is push me away!"

"I don't want to!" Seamus spat, whipping around, "I want things to be the way they were, but they can't! What am I supposed to do?"

"Let me be there for you? I'm supposed to be your best mate but you've been acting like I'm some nuisance. Like everything would be better if I weren't here."

"You know that's not how I feel, you're like a brother to me-"

"Stop," Dean commanded,"stop lying to me, stop lying to yourself. I know you feel more than that, I know you like me. I can't have just imagined all we had. Tell me I didn't. Tell me I'm not insane, Seamus."

"You're not," He croaked, his hands twisting in his robes. "I did- I  _do_ feel that way, but that's just the problem, isn't it? I can't like you, not like that! I-it's sick and wrong."

"Why?! Why is it so wrong?" Dean practically yelled, "Am I wrong, Seamus? Because I have feelings for you, does that make me wrong? Sick? Demented?"

"No, no of course not!"

"Then why do you think you are?!"

"It's-it's different for me-"

"No it isn't!" Dean threw his hands in the air, "You're making up these ridiculous rules just to torment yourself!"

"I can't be like you, Dean! I know what your house is like, your parents are nice and acceptin'. Me mam would rather not have a son than have a fag for a child!"

"Who cares what your mum thinks." Dean's voice was rushed, panicked, but he wasn't yelling anymore. He needed to reach Seamus, to stop this bizarre idea that he's somehow worth less than if he liked girls. "This is _your_ life, not hers. Don't let her dictate who you can and can't be."

"She's me mam, she sends me to school, she buys me clothes and writes to me. I can't just betray her."

"You're not betraying her by being who you are!" 

"I can't, Dean. Okay? I just can't."

"You can't keep hiding!"

"I can if-if the real me, is-is  _wrong._ "

"There's nothing wrong with you, Seamus. Nothing to fix. Everyone is their own unique version of perfect, no matter who they love." Dean urged, hazarding a few steps closer. He needed to find something,  _anything_ for Seamus to cling onto, to pull him out of the damn hole he'd been pushed into. "You've been going about this like you're the only one. Like you're all alone. But you're not. Neville, Lavender, Blaise, Hannah, and so many others are up in the Charms room, waiting for me to come back with you. You know why? Because they wanted to help you."

"Dean-"

He closed the small distance between them, placing his hands on the shorter boy's biceps, squeezing them comfortingly, "You aren't alone, Shay. You've got all those people waiting for you. You have Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall. You have me.And I know we can get through this, if you just let us-let  _me_  help you."

Seamus stared at the ground, a few tears falling onto the dirt covered floor. Dean could feel him shaking, his body rigid as it tried to stave off the thrum. The moment felt like it lasted for an eternity, Seamus flexing and un-flexing his hands, small, broken heaves of breath filling the air. After several minutes, he lifted his head and looked Dean in the eye. Dean tried to read his face, scared of what might happen next. Afraid everything, all they'd both been through had been for nothing. His worries melted away when Seamus' hands slowly cupped his face, his lips gently meeting Dean's.

The kiss was tender, hesitant. It was like Dean could feel all of Seamus' insecurities and all his distress, his emotions mingling with his own. When Seamus finally pulled away, he rested his forehead on Dean's chest, his arms wrapped around Dean's torso, his hands twisted in the fabric. "I trust you, Dean Thomas. More than anyone. I'm putting everything I've got into that trust."

Dean's arms slid around Seamus, "Don't worry, Shay, as long as I'm alive, you won't be alone."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel kind of iffy about this, which makes me sad because it's the last chapter. Just let me know what you guys think of the ending. There was a lot more dialogue in this chapter but I felt that it was rather necessary. I was going to include Lavender and Parvati, and Blaise and Neville getting back together but I thought it veered too far away from the central plot. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoyed.  
> I want to say thanks to all you lovely, amazing readers, your support is what motivated me to actually follow this fic through and I just absolutely adore all of you.   
> I'm sad to see this fic end but I've got other Deamus story ideas lined up and I'm excited to start new projects, so keep your eyes peeled.   
> Love you and see you next time!

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to write this after making a post on Tumblr about the LGBTQIA+ community at Hogwarts and people started requesting that it be written. I'm really excited to write this one and hope you all enjoyed the first chapter! Are there any background characters that you think may have been part of the LGBTQIA+ community? If so, please let me know because it'll be a great help to me with future chapters.  
> Let me know what you think in the comments!


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